Case Identifiers
by Wandering Wonderer
Summary: Meet the Parents: Greg's parents are in town and they want to get to know Morgan. How much embarrassment can one man take? Morganders. [A new Case Identifiers oneshot].
1. Innocence in the Backseat 1

**Hi all! I thought I'd try my hand at writing for my all-time favourite crime show. I've been watching CSI since 2003 and have watched seasons 1-13 about once a every 18 months (coincidentally timing it so that by the time I finish the last season I own, the newest one is just released on DVD). I am, of course, up to date with season 15.**

**I love CSI for the stories. Each week a new puzzle to solve. The shipping, for me, is just the added bonus. So, if there's no hints at romantic pairings in an episode, I'm not discouraged because that's not what CSI is about for me.**

**That said, I am a Morganders fan. Have been since they were first introduced in that cringe-worthy first meeting. Greg is such a dork, I love him. I've never shipped a pairing so hard in CSI as I have with Morganders. I also prefer Snickers to GSR (maybe that's why I'm desensitised to any lack of ship moments).**

**So, as a gift to Morganders fans, while we wait for the next episode in mid-February, I thought I'd post my first CSI fic. Enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own anything relating to this story. Except the computer I'm writing it on. I'm just borrowing the characters to make them dance for my (and hopefully your) amusement. Watch the show!

**Innocence in the Backseat**

**Premise: **Morgan has just finished an exhausting shift in which she solved a double murder. On her way home during the hot day, she stops at a grocery store, only to discover a baby in the back seat of a car. _Morganders. Part 1 of 2._

**Posted: February 2, 2015.**

* * *

With an exhale that was part way between a groan and a sigh, Morgan Brody rested her head on her hands as she gripped the steering wheel of her car. She was tired. Exhausted. Bone-achingly weary. Even her hair – up in a high ponytail – felt sore. What had started as a seemingly natural death case 48 hours ago then snowballed into a double homicide.

With everyone already on other cases or in court, Morgan had only DB as the other CSI on the case. It had been a harrowing double shift but as a result, a man – who thought he'd gotten away with two murders that had been disguised as naturals – was now behind bars.

She was grateful and willing to go home at her supervisor's suggestion but she needed to stop for essentials at the shops first. She was sitting in her driver's seat, trying to psyche herself up into opening the door into the horrendous heat of Vegas' heat wave.

"Morgan Brody," she berated herself. "It is less than 50 steps from your car to the front of the supermarket. Get out. The sooner you get in there, the sooner you can be home."

That internal argument put forward, she dragged herself from her car and trudged towards the shopping centre. Weaving through the few cars in the parking lot, Morgan made her way to the air-conditioned building.

Her progress was arrested by the sound of a crying baby. The tone of the cries made her wary. Three cars over, the cries were coming from a seemingly unoccupied car. Dread blossoming in her chest, she rushed to the car, exhaustion forgotten. A quick inspection of the shabby car revealed a baby pink in the face with heat while squalling unbuckled and unsafe in the back seat.

Morgan wrenched at the car door and swore to find it locked. She ran back to her car, dialling in 911 as she went.

"This is CSI Morgan Brody," she called into her phone, giving the address of the supermarket. "I've found a baby abandoned in a backseat."

She called her location into the phone as she took a tire iron to the back window furthest away from the baby. Unlocking the car and wrenching the door open, she quickly – and yet with extreme tenderness – pulled the baby from the car jogged into the air-conditioned supermarket, screaming for water.

The shoppers in the relatively empty store crowded around Morgan and the baby. Looking down at the baby in her arms, Morgan studied the squirming baby. Taking proffered water, she sprinkled it on the infant to cool him down. Blowing on his face and pressing him closer to her chest, she crooned softly to the baby.

Morgan's gentle singing calmed the baby enough for him to turn his brown eyes on hers. She continued to care and sing to the baby until scant minutes later, the sound of police and ambulance sirens could be heard, soon followed by the entrance of law enforcement and paramedics.

The paramedics took the baby from her arms and he squealed and squirmed, reaching out to Morgan. Looking into the baby's little crying face, she offered to hold him while the paramedics checked him over. She spoke to the police officer and the day shift CSI as the paramedics worked or rapidly calming baby in her arms.

Once the formalities were over and the CSI got to work on the abandoned car, Morgan and the baby were off to the hospital.

* * *

Sitting on her hospital bed, arms now devoid of the abandoned baby, Morgan felt her adrenaline waning and her exhaustion return. She refused to lie down, lest she fall asleep waiting for the CSI to come and collect her jacket for trace.

To keep herself awake, she called her dad to let him know what was going on and he offered to have a police officer pick her up. "Thanks dad, but I want to find out how the baby is and who would be cruel enough to do this. I'm heading back to the office after this. I'll catch a ride with the CSI that comes to process me."

"If you say so M, I just don't want you run ragged, you just closed a double homicide."

"I'll be fine dad. Okay, I have to go, there's the doctor and I want to speak to him. Love you too."

She jumped off the bed and hung up as she walked over to the doctor. When she asked, he said she could see the baby and told her the CSI was with him. She was relieved to hear the baby was in good health overall.

"He mustn't have been left in the car long. You certainly saved his life Ms Brody, any longer and he would have died."

The older man then gave her a congratulatory clap on the shoulder and took her to the room where the baby was sniffling and squirming. Morgan moved to his side and watched as the CSI took a swab. Soon after, he did the same to her and took her jacket and scrapings from under her nails.

Morgan made polite conversation with the CSI she'd seen in the halls but most of her focus was on the baby. Once he gave her permission to touch the baby, she was by his side and running a hand through his soft sandy brown hair. The baby boy quietened down and looked at Morgan, giving her a bright smile, which she returned.

"Don't worry, we'll find out who did this to you," she said.

"The doctor said he's about a year old," the other CSI said as he packed away his evidence. "No ID, obviously. So for now, he's a John Doe. Are you ready to head back?"

"Can we wait a few minutes? I want to make sure Child Services gets here."

The CSI nodded and said he'd put his evidence in his car and wait for her. Morgan didn't have to wait long for the Child Services worker to get there. After a short conversation in which the worker promised to keep Morgan in the loop about the baby, Morgan headed down to find her ride.

* * *

After getting the dayshift supervisor's permission to be part of the case, Morgan found her CSI and asked him about the progress.

"His prints aren't in the system and neither is his DNA, so he's not been reported missing," he said.

"That implicated the parents, doesn't it? You don't report your baby missing if you're the one abandoning him."

The CSI nodded his agreement. "I was just about to process the car. How about you do up front so we avoid anything that could harm us in court."

Down in the garage, Morgan dusted the front doors and steering wheel, getting numerous partials and prints. She found no forms of identification in the glove box but did find a rotting sandwich.

"I'll assume some of the prints on the door handle here are yours, but any others could be our guy's," the CSI said. "And I've got some stains. That's disgusting, leaving this baby alone on a backseat in what I think is evidence of sex. We'll compare the baby's DNA to anything we find in the car, see if we can find a link."

Morgan lifted her head from the mobile fingerprint analysis device. "No luck on the prints, they're not in the system."

Her sentence was truncated by a loud yawn, to which the CSI smiled. "How about I take the samples to DNA and follow up on the car's registration, and you go get a coffee. You must be running on fumes."

"That sounds good."

* * *

In the break room, Morgan poured herself a coffee and a litany of soft curses fell from her lips when she – in her exhaustion – spilled it on her shirt. She fought the urge to cry and abandoned her drink to head for the locker room where she knew she had a spare shirt.

Once she sat on the bench in the locker room, she felt what little energy she had leave her body and her shoulders sagged. She stared at her open locker, telling herself to close it and get back to work. Morgan closed her eyes and breathed slowly, trying to regain energy enough to stand.

She wasn't aware of her teeter sideways and was asleep before her head hit the bench.

That was how Greg Sanders found her two minutes later. He – like Sara – was on call for court and decided waiting it out at work was better than sitting on a bench outside the courthouse. He smiled, pleased with his decision, as he took in the sight of Morgan Brody asleep awkwardly on the bench.

Walking over to her, he squatted down nearer her napping level and watched her sleeping face for a moment. Then, concern trumped fascination over her uncomfortable position and he gently shook her awake.

"Wakey-wakey sleeping beauty. That can't be comfortable."

Morgan's tired eyes cracked open at the familiar voice and smiled sleepily at the goofy grin of Greg Sanders not too far away. Pushing herself up, she rubbed her eyes and sighed.

"What are you still doing here Morgan, shift finished hours ago and I heard through the grapevine –"

"Hodges?"

"Hodges," he nodded. "Said that you and Russell closed a double homicide. Go home."

"I can't," she said.

She explained to Greg about what happened on her way home. She fumed aloud about the horror of leaving an innocent child alone in a back seat during the middle of a heat wave. Before she knew it, her exhaustion and her ease in Greg's presence caused furious tears to stream down her face, which she wiped away furiously.

It wasn't until Greg gently pushed down on her shoulder and passed her a new cup of coffee that she realised they'd walked from the locker room to the break room. He had guided her to one of the small couches and the softness of the leather beneath her made her tired all over again.

Greg sat down next to her, turning his body towards her with a concerned look on his face. His hand was still gently gripping her shoulder and his other hand came up to take a tentative hold of her coffee, lest she spill it.

Morgan continued to wipe at her eyes, shaking her head slightly to try and dispel the tears. "I'm just so angry and so damn tired. Who could do this to little Johnny?"

Greg tilted his head. "Johnny?"

Morgan blinked up at him, her eyes still watery. "Oh, I didn't realise I'd started calling him that in my head. Because he's still a John Doe. I guess Johnny suited him better than John. It's slightly more personal."

Greg nodded in agreement and a comfortable silence settled between them. Morgan couldn't help the corners of her lips lifting into a smile. She liked this about her relationship with Greg, they didn't need to always be talking, they could just sit in each other's presence.

Even with Hodges – her best friend – there was a need to fill the silence. With Greg, she was at ease.

So it was his presence, his warm hands on her shoulder and hand, the scent of the coffee and the comfort of the couch that caused her eyes to droop closed.

Greg frowned. "How long has it been since you've slept?"

"What time is it?"

That caused him to frown deeper. "Noon-ish."

Morgan sighed, her eyes closing. "I had a few hours sleep yesterday morning while I was waiting for results on my case. Before that, my last proper sleep was the day before that before I picked up the case."

"You've had what, three hours sleep in the last 55 hours? Morgan!" his exclamation wasn't loud, but the emphasis on his concern was easily deciphered.

Morgan hummed lightly, her eyes still closed. Greg watched her for a minute and noticed when her body swayed. He gently took the coffee from her hands and didn't do anything to stop her as she leant forward to rest her head against his shoulder.

Putting the coffee on the small table next to the couch, he shifted the hand on her shoulder to her other shoulder, so his arm was encircling her. He could feel her breath on his neck and he didn't resist the urge to rest his chin on her head.

Greg enjoyed their embrace for a minute before he gently pulled away from her and guided her into a lying down position on the couch. As he stood, he heard her phone ring and hesitated for only a moment before he reached into her pocket to pull it out.

"Morgan's phone, Greg Sanders speaking," he answered, speaking softly so as not to wake the phone's owner.

"Sanders? Where's Brody, we're working this abandoned kid case together."

Greg recognised the voice as a dayshift CSI he'd seen around the halls during many cases that'd kept him well passed the end of his own shift. "She's having a coffee and taking a break, she's still here after a double shift. Is it important, should I wake her?"

"No, I was calling to let her know there were two DNA samples in the car. One came back to missing woman Kelly Donald and she had 13 alleles in common with the kid Brody found. She was reported missing last year from Desert Palm after she gave birth. Last known address is with her husband and the file says he's the one that realised she was missing from her hospital room.

"I've called his work but he's on a flight back from Washington on business. I've left a message for him to come in. The other DNA came back to Yancey "Yankee" Pritchard, he's a known drug dealer and the car's also registered to him. I'll come find Brody when either the husband or Pritchard comes in."

"Sounds good. Morgan's in the break room when you do need her."

Greg hung up the phone and decided the break room was a good a place as any to wait for the call to let him know when he was needed in court. He picked Morgan's untouched coffee and claimed it as his own. Settling into a seat at the table with a good view of Morgan's sleeping form, Greg cracked open one of the files relating to the case he was needed in court for.

* * *

Greg acted as Morgan's protector for the next four hours, shushing people that wandered into the break room. He had a short conversation with Ecklie, who was planning a press conference for 7pm news about Johnny Doe.

Ecklie carefully sat down on the edge of Morgan's couch, gently brushing away some hair that had fallen over her face. Greg watched on enviously because he'd been longing to do the same thing for two hours, since the hair had fallen over her face.

If they'd not been at work and had their relationship/flirtationship been more defined as to where they stood, he wouldn't have resisted the urge.

After Ecklie left and 5pm arrived, Greg realised court was over for the day. He decided his evening was better spent with Morgan and her case, so he rushed to get changed out of his suit and into more practical work clothes. He was relieved Morgan was still there and sleeping 10 minutes later when he returned.

He made a cup of coffee and set it down on the small table next to Morgan's couch, deliberating whether he should let her sleep on or wake her. He was spared further deliberation when the CSI Morgan had been working with came in.

He informed Greg that police had picked up Yancey "Yankee" Pritchard – the owner of the car the Donald baby was left in – and was bringing him in. He then proceeded to explain that as his shift was over and he was heading home and since Morgan was staying, she could take over.

His team had groomed him so, but Greg could never fathom leaving in the middle of such an important case, especially since it involved a child. The graveyard shift Level 3 CSI waved off the deserting dayshift CSI and moved over to where Morgan was sleeping.

"Rise and shine sleeping beauty. Morgan?" he shook her gently. "They found the owner of the car and they're bringing him in."

Morgan was awake and alert very quickly. She brushed down her bed head, a look Greg found incredibly endearing. He passed her the coffee he'd made her and explained how he was her new partner on the case.

She beamed, an action that brought a goofy smile to his own face. "Dream team working together."

Greg playfully offered her his arm. "May I escort you to PD?"

"You may." As she looped her arm through his, she caught sight of the time on her watch. "5.20pm? Greg! I was asleep for ages! Why didn't you wake me?"

"There was nothing needed doing and you needed sleep, Morgan."

"But I could have – "

"No, Morgan. If you're going to work on this case, you need to be able to running on more than a few hours sleep.

"Plus," he said, opening a door for her. "You looked very cute."

* * *

**I hope you enjoyed part 1. The second part should be finished by the end of the work week. I have a busy week of work and when you've been typing on a computer all day, the last thing you want to do is come home and do more writing. But watching CSI while writing CSI certainly helps get the creative juices flowing.**

**Also, you may have noticed the story's name on the website doesn't match the name of this two-shot. This is because I plan to make this a central place to upload all Morganders fics in one place. Thus Case Identifiers on the outside, stories named separately on the inside.**

**Leave a review if you feel so inclined, please. Words nourish a writer's soul.**

**\- Wandering Wonderer**


	2. Innocence in the Backseat 2

**Ugh, what a week. I only realised it was Friday about 20 minutes ago. I've been run so ragged this week at work, I've been going into the office at 7am and not leaving until after 6pm. That's what happens when you're the only fulltime journalist at a weekly newspaper, with only a part time journo who works three days a week to help. So when you do all but three of the general news stories, the editorial in the advertising wrap, the editorial for the advertising feature, real estate and sport, I really need a break this weekend.**

**Anywho, like I promised, here's the second part of the two-shot, by the end of the work week.**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own CSI. Watch the show,but it you're here reading this, you already do. I just finished A Bullet Runs Through It II and there hasn't been a time yet when I haven't cried at the ending.

**Innocence in the Backseat**

**Premise: **Morgan has just finished an exhausting shift in which she solved a double murder. On her way home during the hot day, she stops at a grocery store, only to discover a baby in the back seat of a car. _Morganders. __Part 2 of 2._

**Posted: February 6, 2015.**

* * *

"That bitch stole my car! Took off with her kid this morning and didn't come back."

Yancey "Yankee" Pritchard slammed his fist down on the table, but neither the detective, Ecklie or Morgan flinched.

"Do you know what time she left or where she was going?" the detective asked.

"I was asleep. I didn't notice she was gone until a friend rang. First time in a damn week that baby hasn't woken me up with its screaming and I slept in. I went outside to take my car to meet my friend and it was gone."

"We know Kelly was reported missing last year, how long have you known her?"

"Bitch walked into my life about three months ago. I haven't seen her since this morning, but when you find her, tell that bitch to stay the hell away from me."

"Do you know her history, why she went missing from the hospital?"

"From what little she told me, she left. Her husband had stopped her from feeding her habit' during the pregnancy and once the kid was born, she kicked it to get her fix."

"Why take the baby then?"

"Probably because he was good for scams. Kid was the sympathy card, got Kelly anything she wanted."

"What is the boy's name?"

Pritchard blinked once at Morgan's question. "Dunno, she just called him 'him', never noticed a name. What can I say, Kelly was a terrible mother. Like I said, that baby is always crying."

Morgan frowned. "He doesn't have a name?" Pritchard shrugged but said nothing. "We found that baby abandoned in the back of your car in the parking lot of a supermarket 12 miles from your place. Do you know anything about that?"

"Nope," Pritchard retorted.

"Do you have any idea where she went?" the detective asked.

"Nope," came the response. "When do I get my car back?"

* * *

As Pritchard was not under arrest, he was allowed to leave. As Morgan, Greg and Ecklie watched the nonchalant drug dealing boyfriend leave, their attention was turned by the arrival of a sharply-dressed man.

"I need to speak to someone in charge! I had a message on my phone that there was news about my wife and son!"

Ecklie stepped forward. "Sir, my name is Sherriff Conrad Ecklie, what is your name?"

"I'm Adam Matthews, I had a message about my wife Kelly Donald. And my son, where's my son?"

The man was frantic and Ecklie guided him towards his office. "Mr Matthews, your son is fine. He was found abandoned in the back of a car this morning by law enforcement but he's been to hospital and he's fine. What is his name?"

Adam Matthews sunk into a chair with a sigh, his hands covering his eyes. "I – we never decided on one. Kelly and I wanted to be surprised with the sex of the baby. When he was born and he was a boy, I wanted to give her time to sleep before we talked about a name. When I came back the next day, they were both gone.

"Where is he, and Kelly? Can I see them?"

Ecklie sat down at his desk and beckoned Morgan and Greg to come forward. "Mr Matthews, this is Morgan Brody and Greg Sanders, they're CSIs working on the case. At the moment, we don't know where your wife is. Can I ask where you've been for the last 24 hours?"

"In Washington for work, I've been gone for three days."

"We'll have to check on that."

"Do what you need to do, anything if I can see my son. Are you sure he's okay, how long was he in the car for?"

Ecklie motioned Morgan forward. "I'll leave CSI Brody to answer that, she was the one who found him."

Mr Matthews' head shot up and he looked at Morgan with an expression torn between gratitude and amazement. "You saved him, you saved my boy?"

Morgan gave him a small smile. "I heard crying as I was heading into the supermarket this morning. I broke into the car and took him inside where there was air-conditioning and stayed with him all the way to hospital."

His shoulders slumped, relieved. "Thank-you, thank-you so much! What does he look like?"

Morgan smiled. "He has big brown eyes and sandy brown hair. And a big smile." Mr Matthews laughed, tears in his eyes. "Mr Matthews, we haven't found your wife yet. But we have reason believe she's been living with a – with someone known to police."

"Known to police through drugs?" he sighed. "Kelly had a drug problem ever since I met her. It was recreational at first, but devolved. I tried to help her. Got her into rehab, went with her to Narcotics Anonymous. The only time she was clean was when she was pregnant. It crossed my mind that she left because of drugs, but I never thought she'd take our son.

"What can I do, how can I help find her?"

"Do you know where she would go to score?" Greg asked.

After a moment of thought, Mr Matthews named a few places he could think of. "Can I go see my son now?"

* * *

They split up, Greg went off with Officer Akers and Officer Mitchell to scout the hotspots Mr Matthews had supplied and Morgan went with the eager father to the hospital. After speaking with the Child Services worker, Morgan led Mr Matthews to where the baby was being cared for.

Mr Matthews wept unashamedly as his gaze fell on his son. His hands were shaking as the nurse handed him his son, who slept soundly despite being shifted from one pair of arms to another. Mr Matthews sat in a chair and cried as he held his son for the first time in a year. He inhaled the scent of his sleeping son, some rogue tears splashing on the infant's face.

Morgan watched the scene while fighting back her own tears. While she watched, she received a call from Greg to say Kelly hadn't been at two of the three places the husband had said. He then said they were heading to the last location.

"Thanks Greg. Let me know when you're done and I'll meet you back at the lab," she said.

Greg replied with a flirty quip that made her smile and she hung up, returning her gaze to the reunited father and son.

"She wasn't there?" Mr Matthews asked, not looking up from his son.

"No, they've got one more place left to check, but she hadn't been seen at the first two places you mentioned."

The father nodded. "I could have guessed as much. I've been checking the places I knew of since she went missing and I did tell the police when she went missing. She probably has new places." There was a minute's silence as he looked at his son. "Can I take him with me? I – I have his room ready."

"Unfortunately," the Child Services worker spoke up. "There is paperwork we have to get through and as you son is part of the investigation, he has to stay in our custody. But," she continued, before the father could speak. "We'll start the process now. I'll call a colleague to bring the necessary paperwork and then he'll do a visit to your house to assess your home to make sure it is a healthy environment. In the meantime," she smiled. "You should start thinking of a name."

Mr Matthews' was soothed and nodded, looking back at his son.

Morgan watched the pair, smiling at the joy on the father's face as the baby boy awoke and looked at his father. "Mr Matthews, may I ask you something?"

He nodded, looking up at her. "You can ask me anything, Ms Brody. I owe you everything for saving my son."

"Why haven't you thought of a name for him?"

The man smiled sadly, looking at his son. "It was something we were supposed to do together. And after Kelly disappeared with him…I couldn't bring myself to think of a name. I couldn't get my hopes up."

* * *

Morgan sighed as she got out of the shower. She quickly checked her phone to make sure no one had called and then, satisfied, quickly got ready to head back to work. It was timed such that as she was getting into her car, her phone rang, an image of Greg pulling a "serious" work face on the screen.

"Hello," she greeted, unable to keep the smile out of her voice.

"Well, someone's in a good mood. I'm going to pretend it's because of me," came Greg's voice. She left it unsaid that it was in great part due to him. "No sign of Kelly McDonald at the last location, so we're heading back to the lab. Her name's out everywhere though, your dad held his press conference, saying we "feared for her safety"."

"More likely they'll turn themselves in that way. Suspects wouldn't turn themselves in if they knew they were suspects. I'll head back to the lab too, I just had to stop off at home for a shower. I'm feeling human again, thank god."

Greg had little to say to that, trying to dispel the image of Morgan in the shower. He'd save that thought for later. After their farewells, Greg realised Akers and Mitchell were smirking at each other.

"What are you two smiling about?" he asked.

"Nothing," Officer Mitchell said.

Akers snorted. "You two are so obvious, it's funny."

"Obvious?"

"Just get it over with," Akers replied, getting in his car with Mitchell.

Greg got into his own car, thinking on Akers' teasing remark. He played dumb, but he knew exactly what the two officers were talking about. The relationship between he and Morgan had been teetering on the edge of something more for a couple of years. The rules at CSI had been relaxed in the last 18 months and there was nothing stopping him asking her out, it was just he was afraid of losing her friendship.

Something was going to have to give soon.

* * *

"Morgan, I hear you're a superhero!"

Morgan stilled her steps as she passed Russell's office, where Finn had just called out from. Inside, the two senior members of the team were discussing their own case. Russell urged Morgan to go home, but she declined, explaining that she had had sleep and the case was still hot.

"Okay, Finn, Nick and I are working on a new case. Sara's still out because they didn't get to her in court. Greg can stay with you until midnight, then he has to go home to get rest for court tomorrow. Clear?"

Morgan smiled. "Clear, boss."

Finn was asking Morgan about the health of the baby and his father's reaction, when Russell looked over Morgan's shoulder and shouted. "Greg!"

Even after all those years, his sudden shouts still made Morgan jump. She felt Greg presence behind her and smiled at him as he fell into rank next to her. After a quick explanation as to where the case was at, Russell and Finn left to head to their case.

Left alone, Greg and Morgan headed to trace to see if anything from that morning had been processed. Hodges was his normal, quirky self as he bustled about his work space, whining about his superiority to the dayshift's trace technician. Morgan smiled and nodded along, but Greg quipped and teased the man right back.

"So," Morgan said, pulling them back on track. "Do you have anything for us Hodges?"

The quip "you always get something from trace" fell from his lips automatically before he tumbled into a soliloquy about dirt retrieved from the car that matched industrial area of town that was largely abandoned due to fire about five years ago.

Both Morgan and Greg looked at the sample of dirt under the microscope as Hodges kept talking. In a rush, Morgan bustled from the room, already on the phone to Crawford. Greg remained a minute longer when Hodges asked him a question.

"Is she all right? She's been working almost non-stop for three days."

Greg was suddenly reminded that this was Morgan's best friend. Hodges was as invested in Morgan's health as he was and he had every right to be. "She's okay for now, she had a good six hour sleep while waiting for results."

Hodges nodded. "Keep an eye on her?"

"Always."

* * *

It was ridiculously simple following the trace report. It took all of 20 minutes searching the industrial area to find the body of Kelly Donald, killed by a gunshot to the chest. The bullet was traced to a gun owned by drug dealer, whom she owed a lot of money to.

When captured, the drug dealer explained he had lured Kelly to the supermarket car park, with a promise that certain "favours" would make the debt go away. He had played it cool right up until she got into his car so he could "drive them to a more private place to do the deed".

He said it hadn't been the first time Kelly was behind on her payments, but it was going to be the last.

Morgan and Greg accompanied the Child Services worker to Mr Matthews house to deliver the news and his son. The man was saddened by the news, but cried tears of joy as he held his son and was told the baby boy could stay with him.

"Everything's in order, except the name for the birth certificate," the Child Services worker said.

Mr Matthews looked from his son, up to Morgan and smiled. "CSI Brody, I owe you a debt I can never repay for saving my son. He's going to know who you are, I'm going to tell him as soon as he's old enough to understand. And because you were so essential in bringing my son back to me, I'm naming him Brody, after you."

Morgan's eyes widened, her heart clenching. After days with little sleep and closing to important cases, her emotions came crashing down around her and she cried. Beside her, Greg gently placed a hand on her back to let her know he was there for her.

"Brody Matthews. That's a good, strong name," he said, his hand moving down to her lower back. "I think with a name like that, he's going to grow to be a good, strong person."

Morgan laughed, wiping her eyes and smiling at baby Brody. "You grow up good, little man."

In his father's arms, Brody smiled and waved a chubby hand, mimicking the motion she was making. There were smiles all around and Morgan, Greg and the Child Services worker left with the satisfaction of a job well done.

In the car on the way back to the lab, Morgan couldn't wipe the smile off her face and Greg was having trouble suppressing his smile due to her happy expression. As they pulled into the familiar parking bay back at the office, Morgan reached across the centre console and gripped his jacket.

"Thank you Greg."

He smiled at her, though a little confused. "I didn't do anything really, I was only really looking out for you."

"Exactly. Thank you for being there for me."

She leaned up and over and sealed her thanks with a kiss on the corner of his mouth. As she pulled back, they both looked surprised at her actions. She started to sputter an explanation but was interrupted by Greg taking her hand and squeezing it gently.

"Come on," he smiled. "Let's clock out so I can take you to dinner. There's a lot to celebrate."

* * *

**And that's it, I hope you enjoyed this two shot. I do have other ideas and will post them as I finish them. They may not be long (I'm known for my one and two shots) but they're tidbits I think an deprived Morganders fan can enjoy.**

**Thanks so much for the reviews so far, I hope to hear from people soon.**

**-Wandering Wonderer**


	3. Happy Anniversary

**Evening (or morning) all! I thought I'd upload a small fic (1600 words short) on an idea that popped into my head at work today and wouldn't leave.**

**I have a theory (and wouldn't it be great if it were true?) that Greg and Morgan are already together behind the scenes. It's been done before in CSI: LV. There were plenty of moments for GSR and then BAM! End of season six and there they are in Grissom's (I think , or Sara's) bedroom, dressed for bed.**

**I think the time frame I've laid out in the story regarding the current season could work. I would like to think they could have been together earlier (episode 13x04 is my favourite Morganders episode), but I think there was a real shift in their relationship at the end of Rubbery Homicide.**

**I don't so much ignore Modges "moments", as see them as moments between friends. Boy best friends are great. There's less girly-drama crap.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own CSI. If I did, what's laid out below would certainly have been included in an episode.**

**Happy Anniversary**

**Premise: **Greg's celebrating 10 years as a field CSI. As he remembers the past, he enjoys the present and thinks to the future.

**Posted - **February 12, 2015.

Dedicated to the Morganders Twitter fandom. I love looking forward to tweets on a Monday morning (here in Australia) that give me hints about the CSI episode that's just aired in America. By 10.30am, I'm seeing new tweets and I thus get even more excited about streaming the episode when I get home for lunch. Keep up the tweets, peeps!

* * *

"Cheers!"

Glasses clinked and merriment was shared as the CSI night shift team and significant others celebrated 10 years of Greg Sanders being a CSI. Sara and Nick were regaling the others with stories of the younger man's earlier days as a CSI and his time as the wacky DNA tech.

"There was always music blasting from his work station. Not to mention that time you burst into the hallway wearing a showgirl headdress," Sara laughed.

"And the time with a rubber glove on his head!" Nick added.

Greg smiled embarrassingly and took a swig of his beer. "Yeah, yeah, but I brightened up the lab. It was such a boring place before they painted it."

"You certainly did brighten up the place, with your bright shirts and sometimes even brighter hair," Nick teased.

"Ha ha," Greg said sarcastically, although patting his hair self-consciously.

"You know," Morgan said, patting Greg's arm sympathetically. "My parents divorced 17 years ago and it must have been just before you started working at the lab, because I don't think I could forget a guy in his mid-20s with bright hair and bright. Man, 16-year-old me would have loved seeing a crazy, wacky guy walking around these halls while I was waiting for my father to finish work."

Greg sighed dramatically, pressing his forehead against the table. "16. Man, you were still a teenager. Now I feel old!"

"You feel old? I'd already been a CSI for about five years at that point," Sara said.

"Oh please," DB said, swapping his plate with his wife's to snag the leftovers. "I've been doing this job almost as long as you've been alive Greg. And I was a CSI Level 2 before Morgan was even a twinkle in Ecklie's eye."

"I'm going to keep quiet because admitting how long I've been at this job is just depressing when I think there are people I work with that weren't even legally allowed to drive when I became a CSI," Finn said.

"I think Al has you all beat though," Mrs Robbins said, starting to clear the dishes.

Greg got to his feet, taking the dishes from her hands. "Please Mrs Robbins, leave that to me. I can't thank you and Mrs Russell for cooking breakfast for us after shift. Home-cooked meals are always the best. A meal with a mother's touch has more soul."

"You're very welcome Greg. 10 years as a CSI is certainly something to celebrate," Mrs Robbins said, sitting back down. "However, it doesn't matter how many meals I share with night shift CSIs, watching people drink beer early in the morning always confuses me."

"I know," Amy Phillips added, bouncing her napping son Joshua. "Logically, I know that this is the evening for you all, but it's still so weird."

"No one can understand the plight of a night shift worker other than another night shift worker," Mrs Russell nodded.

"Speaking of night," Nick said, yawning as he stretched. "I think it's time to head home and hit the hay."

There were murmurs of agreement from around the table and Greg walked them to the door. Sara, Amy, Mrs Robbins and Mrs Russell all hugged him at the door in congratulations. Greg was responding to DB's handshake when Nick spoke.

"You're not heading home, Morgan?"

Morgan stood close by with a mostly empty food tray in her hands. "I'm just going to help Greg tidy up, I'll only be a couple of minutes."

"A'right, good night you guys!" Nick said, waving to his two younger colleagues. "See you next shift."

Greg waved all his guests off before closing the door. He and Morgan made polite conversation as they brought dishes from the dining room to the kitchen. As Morgan set the last of the plates into the sink, Greg came up behind her and slid his arms around her waist. Morgan spun around in his embrace, sliding her arms up around his neck.

With a small sigh and a tilt of the head, Greg's lips met hers in a soft kiss. It was unhurried and tender as lips parted and breath was shared. Morgan's fingers slid into the hair at the base of his head, as Greg's gentle stroking at her hip timed the beat of the classic Frank Sinatra album that'd been playing through the meal.

They parted from their kiss with a smile and Greg rested his forehead against hers and sighed dramatically. "I can't believe you were still a teenager while I was working in DNA. It makes me feel so creepy."

Morgan smiled, closing her eyes. "It's probably a good thing I didn't meet you back then, then."

"Really, why?"

"Because I would have for sure had a crush on you. I love your smile and I can only just remain unaffected by it in the office now. I wouldn't have stood a chance as a teenager. Bright smile, smart guy, funny and hot. Yep, I would have absolutely been crushing on you. And I would have hated to see you looking at me as a kid."

Greg laughed. "I certainly don't look at you like a kid now."

"No, you don't," she said, rewarding him with a quick peck on the lips. "Plus, now that we're older, nine years age difference isn't that big a deal. I think I prefer older guys. I dated a lot of losers my own age when I was growing up. I think I like stable, more mature men."

Greg grinned. "Maybe you wouldn't have liked me when you were a teenager then. You heard Nick and Sara's stories, I was pretty immature."

Morgan shook her head. "You were 25 and had a full time, very important job in a very prestigious lab. You couldn't have been that immature. I remember the kind of guys I dated in my mid-20s, you come out on top."

"Really?" he asked with a cheeky grin.

Morgan lightly slapped his shoulder. "You know what I mean. Anyway," she said, pulling herself from his embrace and moving out of the kitchen, smiling flirtatiously. "I haven't thanked you yet for being my own personal Superman in the alley during the case."

Greg smiled and swooped on her the moment her back was turned, carrying her in his arms to his bedroom. "It's a bird, it's a plane. No, it's Super-Greg!"

Morgan's laughter filled the house as Greg kicked his bedroom door behind him.

* * *

Greg groaned and squinted his eyes closed as his alarm went off. He haphazardly threw his arm in the direction of his bedside table, hoping to hit the snooze button. After a few failed attempts, his face with filled with hair as a warm body threw itself across him to hit the right button.

With an exaggerated groan, Morgan collapsed on top of Greg, her hair getting in his face. Opening his eyes and brushing away the errant hairs clouding his vision, Greg took in the sight of his sex-and-sleep tousled girlfriend. Morgan had buried her head into his chest and he couldn't help but soak in the vision she presented splayed across him like the very covers she was known for stealing during the night.

Tenderly stroking a hand down her side – which caused her to squirm and murmur – Greg kissed the top of her head. "I am so glad you agreed to have a drink with me after the rubber dolls case," he said, his voice husky with sleep.

Morgan hummed and stretched atop him, sliding off him and snuggling into his side to rest her head on his shoulder. "I'm glad you kissed me when you dropped me off at my place. I'm glad it wasn't weird between us when we worked on that next case in the Clark County jail. And," she yawned, running a hand across his other shoulder blade. "I'm glad you accepted my invitation to come to my place after that case was finished. And I'm glad for every day since. And every moment that led us to this point."

Greg brushed his fingers across her stomach and onto her lower back, pulling her flush against him as he turned onto his side to face her. "Morgan, I lo – "

He was interrupted by his phone ringing. With a sigh, he reached over and picked up his phone, answering it when he saw it was DB.

"Hey boss. No, no, I'd just woken up. Sure, I can come in a little early, just give me 20 minutes to shower. Also, please thank your wife again for cooking, it was delicious. Oh sorry, you have to go," he looked at Morgan. "Oh, you still have to call Morgan. Okay, I'll let you go. See you soon."

He hung up and placed the phone back on the bedside table, watching as Morgan got up – completely naked – and ran to get her phone back in the living room. She returned a minute later with her phone to her ear and Greg watched – entranced – as she moved around his bedroom completely naked, pulling out a spare pair of clothes from a small bag she had by the dresser.

"Sure thing Russell, see you soon."

Morgan set her phone down next to Greg's leaned over and placed a quick kiss on his lips. "I'm stealing the shower," she smiled, taking off towards the bathroom with a playful smile.

Greg sat up properly and listened for the sound of his shower running. With a smile, he got up and chose his own clothes for the night. He reflected on his 10 years as a CSI. Every moment had led to where he was now.

And as he listened to Morgan's singing coming from the shower, he couldn't regret his journey and couldn't wait to see what the future brought.

* * *

**I hope you liked it, think of it as an early Valentine's Day gift from me. Now excuse me while I get back to playing the Valentine's Day episode on Hidden Crimes on my iPad.**

**I think I got the ages/years right.**

**Greg is 40 this year according to CSI Wikia. Assuming a year per season, he was about 25 at the beginning of CSI.**

**In 13x17, Morgan says her 10 year high school reunion was "last year", meaning she's about 29 in season 13 and thus, 31 in season 15. I think I remember Morgan saying she was in her teens when her parents divorced and she moved. So she could only have missed Greg by a couple of years at the most.**

**Anyway, CSI is back this weekend (or Monday morning, for people like me in Australia), so I hope I've helped fill the CSI gap in the couple of weeks of waiting.**

**\- Wandering Wonderer**


	4. Almost Lost Before We Began

**Greetings all, welcome to yet another Morganders oneshot. Goodness, I'm really churning them out. I guess I've been inspired because I'm watching through my CSI collection again. I'm getting to the pointy end of season 8 and I'm already preparing myself for the last scene of the season.**

**There have only been three scenes that have made me cry genuine emotions and still do every time I watch them: the last scene of A Bullet Runs Through It Part 2, Warrick's death and the team's subsequent reactions in the alley, and Grissom's eulogy.**

**Disclaimer:** I do not own CSI. If only. Watch the show and buy it on DVD.

**Almost Lost Before We Began**

**Premise: **It's a busy time at the lab, so when Greg is asked to sub at a conference in San Francisco, he's surprised to see Morgan there.

**Posted: **February 13, 2015

* * *

The complacent normalcy of the Las Vegas Crime Lab – even with its busy halls and occasional gunshots – was shattered by night shift supervisor DB Russell shouting out the name of one of his CSIs.

"Greg!"

The people in the immediate vicinity outside DB's office jumped in surprise and Greg appeared a few moments later, an eyebrow raised and looking slightly exasperated. "Russell?"

"What do you think of San Francisco?"

"Beautiful city. Great bridge but very hilly. Why?"

"There's a conference there next week and one of the speakers had to cancel due to illness – chicken pox, of all things – and I suggested you."

"Me, what for, speaking?"

"Yes, the speaker was supposed to talk about interoffice relationships – "

"Wha – but I've never – "

"No, not that way," DB said, waving Greg completely into his office to take a seat opposite his desk. "Professionals relationships, mending bridges. You bridged the gap between lab tech and CSI. You made that change, you can see things from both sides."

"Oh. Sure, I can do that."

"Great, I'll have HR email you about accommodation and such. Now, who's your case going?"

"Great. Finn's just sent off samples to Hodges, Mandy and Henry, and Nick and I are about to head off to the themed escort service where she worked."

"Themed?"

Greg grinned. "Old Vegas."

DB huffed a laugh. "Of course. Enjoy."

* * *

Greg was setting up his presentation in the seminar room of the conference venue a week later, when he heard a cough in front of him. "Excuse me Professor? I hope the quiz at the end isn't too hard, I haven't really studied."

He looked up from his place bent over his laptop and smiled at the sight of Morgan Brody, who was standing before him with a playful smile. "Morgan! I didn't know you were coming to the conference."

"Yeah, I booked it months ago. I've always wanted to come to San Francisco. I didn't know you were coming until I spoke to Russell just before I left. We barely saw each other all week, so it didn't even come up in conversation," she explained.

"Are you staying for my presentation?" he asked.

"Of course! I'd actually signed up for it before you took over, I wanted to see how the relationships in our office stacked up against others. LA didn't feel as much of a family as Vegas does, you know?"

Greg smiled. "Yeah. But I think you have to have the right kind of people around you to make it work. We've had colleagues who haven't quite clicked with the group. Some newcomers find it difficult settling in to our office. You're one of the rare exceptions to the rule though."

Morgan averted her gaze from his bright, warm smile. "Well, you guys made me feel so welcome."

"Greg!"

The two Vegas' CSIs heads turned towards the voice from the door. A smiling blonde woman advanced on the pair and she looked from the familiar face to the smaller blonde beside him.

"Riley, how are you?" Greg said. "Morgan, this is Riley Adams, she was a CSI with us a few years before you joined us." The look he gave Morgan let her know the woman before her was one of the newcomers that hadn't quite clicked with the group. "Riley, this is Morgan Brody. I'd say she's the newest person on our team but she's been with us for about four years now."

"Oh, it's nice to meet you Riley," Morgan said, shaking the woman's hand. "Are you staying for Greg's presentation?"

"No, I haven't signed up for it. I'm going to a couple of ballistics seminars and one on working with the police department."

Greg nodded, not really at all surprised by her seminar choice. "We'll I'm sure we'll see you around, enjoy the convention."

"And you," Riley said, before leaving the Las Vegas pair to themselves.

"Was she one of the ones that didn't quite fit in?" Morgan asked.

"Yeah, but it may not have been completely her fault. She joined the team as Warrick's replacement and we were all still reeling from his death. She and Catherine clashed and she was a bit gung-ho. I'd heard she'd accepted a position in law enforcement, maybe she came back to the scientific side."

He was interrupted as people started filing in for the seminar. He checked his watch, noting he had 10 minutes before he was due to start. Morgan gave him an encouraging look and started to move off to find a seat.

"Morgan? Do you – uh – " he started, smiling at her warmly. "Do you want to go get dinner tonight after the conference, maybe at Ghirardelli Square? We could visit Ghirardelli Chocolate afterwards."

Morgan returned his smile, moving back over to him and touching his arm. "Of course, Greg. And," she dropped her hand, sneaking a look at people moving into the room to make sure they couldn't hear. "You don't have to lure me with the promise of chocolate, however delicious it is. I enjoy spending time with you."

He smiled. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," and with a final gentle squeeze to his forearm, she moved to take her seat a couple of rows from the front.

Greg finished the final touches of his presentation and when he looked up again, he was surprised to see the vast number of people looking back at him. He took a deep breath, reminded himself court was much more stressful and looked at Morgan, who gave him a small thumbs up.

Morgan watched as he straightened, smiled that bright smile she loved, and began his presentation.

"Welcome all and thanks for dropping by, especially since I wasn't your original speaker. My name is Greg Sanders and I am a CSI Level 3 out at Las Vegas – " he was interrupted by a "wooh, Vegas" from the back of the room and continued. "I just want to do a quick head count, put your hand up if you're a CSI," about 40 per cent of the people put their hand up, including Morgan. "And lab techs?" the rest raised their hand.

"That's actually a pretty even distribution. Now, the reason I was asked to fill in and talk about interoffice relationships between lab techs and CSIs is because I went from one to the other. I was the DNA lab tech for almost six years before I became a CSI.

"I was lucky because I had an open-minded supervisor who – when I asked for more field work after helping out in a case – provided me the opportunity. I guess the DNA position in my lab must be blessed, because the tech after the one who replaced me also took up the opportunity, at a different lab, however.

"What CSIs have to realise is that techs are not your tools. You attract more flies with honey than with vinegar. Techs have the power to prioritise your evidence. And if there's any disrespect," Greg grinned cheekily. "They'll just make you wait by saying results aren't back yet. What are you going to do about it?"

* * *

"And that's all I've prepared, but we've got some time for questions," Greg said, as he came to the end of his presentation, which had a slide of the entire Las Vegas night shift team – techs and CSIs – in a photo.

"Which do you prefer being, tech or CSI?"

"For me, I enjoyed both roles, but I feel being a CSI is the place for me. There came a time when being in the lab receiving the evidence wasn't enough, I wanted to be out there collecting it. But that's not for everyone."

"Isn't being a CSI more dangerous?"

Greg couldn't help a look in Morgan's direction before he answered the tech's question. "Certainly, being a CSI puts you in the path of danger a lot more. I've lost a friend on the job, he was murdered by someone who was supposed to be a good guy.

"In fact, every CSI on my shift has been in life-or-death danger during their time on our team. Although, that's not to say techs aren't in danger too. A colleague of mine was drugged with PCP and attacked another tech.

"Also, when I was the DNA tech, a liquid was left under a fume hood next to an open heat source, which caused an explosion with me standing next to it."

There was a gasp throughout the conference room, including Morgan, who hadn't known about the incident. "Were you badly hurt?"

"I was. I was in hospital for weeks and even when I got back to work, I still had the shakes. Moving on, are there any other questions?"

Morgan put her hand up, and he raised an eyebrow questioningly. "What do you like best about the team you work with?"

Greg smiled. "We're a well-oiled machine. Whether we split up or working on one case together, we all know what needs to be done and go the extra distance when needed. We look out for each other and are friends outside work. We're a family."

* * *

Greg watched as Morgan stirred at her hot chocolate, staring into her drink, deep in thought. He munched on his chocolate cake, wondering whether to say anything. She'd been quiet ever since dinner and he was worried about her mood change since the seminar. Finally, he couldn't stand it anymore.

"Morgan, what's wrong?"

She didn't even look up from her hot chocolate. "Nuthin', just enjoying my drink."

"Really? You've barely touched it. Plus you've hardly said anything since the seminar. Did I say something wrong?"

This time her head snapped up. "No, of course not! I just – it's," she sighed pressing her head into her hands. "I didn't know about the explosion. And then – and then you said we were a family and I realised how close we were to never even meeting."

"Hey," he said, reaching across and taking a hand away from her face so he could see her. "We're here now. We're both – we're all here now because of each other. We understand each other better for our experiences. I kick myself every day because I didn't get in that helicopter instead of you," she looked down. "But we know each other a little better because we've shared similar experiences.

"Morgan," his tone of voice made her look up. "You were shot in the back and left for dead. I was dragged from my car, beaten and left for dead."

Morgan's eyes widened and she gripped his hand with both of hers. "What?" she croaked. "When was this, what happened?"

Greg explained the incident in the alley, all those years ago. He told her about Demetrius James and the agonising minutes he was left bleeding internally and externally in the dark.

"Sara, Nick and I don't really talk about the time before Warrick, because what can anything we've gone through compare to what happened to Warrick?"

Morgan looked concerned. "Please tell me there isn't more. When else have you been hurt?"

"Me? No other times. But Sara was kidnapped by a serial killer and trapped under a car in the desert, and all because the killer was getting back at Grissom and Sara was important to him. Nick was – Nick was buried alive. He was abducted on the job and tossed in a clear box in a nursery. He's also been thrown out a window by a stalker he once had."

Morgan was silent, staring at Greg with wide eyes, her hands still gripping his. "My god, everything we've all gone through. It's like something out of a TV drama."

He exhaled a breath. "Yeah, it is."

They sat in silence again, the tension leaving the air around them. Eventually, Morgan released one of her hands' hold on his and sipped at her hot chocolate with vigour. She smiled and sighed as the warmth of her drink calmed her.

"This is really very good hot chocolate," she said, squeezing his hand momentarily to indicate she wasn't going to let go.

Not really wanting to break contact with her, Greg clumsily ate his chocolate cake with his non-dominant hand, a visual Morgan found incredibly endearing. After they finished their desserts, they bought some chocolate to take back to Vegas and headed out along the marina.

Neither one mentioned the fact they were still holding hands as they weaved through the light throng of people enjoying the twinkling lights against the water. "So, two more days of the conference and then back home," Greg said. "What other semi – "

"Greg, thank-you for sharing your past with me," Morgan interrupted. "You're right, we do know each other better, knowing we've had similar experiences. And I…"

She trailed off, coming to a stop, a move Greg realised a step later. He stopped and turned to ask her what was wrong, when she reached up and kissed him. There was but a moment's hesitation before he returned the kiss, pulling her flush against him.

Morgan's hands moved and fisted in his jacket, unwilling to let him go, afraid he might disappear. With a soft, relaxed moan, she parted her lips for his. When the need for oxygen was greater than the need to kiss him, did she pull away. They were both breathing heavily and a look of suppressed elation bloomed across Greg's face.

"Morgan? Wha – "

She leaned up and pecked him on the lips. "Everything I've learnt today has taught me I don't want to be apart from you."

Greg's smile was the brightest she'd ever seen. "That is very, very good to hear," he said, tightening his grip around her waist.

"Well," she said, leaning up and brushing her lips against his. "You're a good teacher, professor."

There were smiles on both their lips as they came together for another kiss, this one with much less desperation but more longing, the reality of a bright future breathing into life.

* * *

**There you have it, I hope you all enjoyed it.**

**I know it's a TV drama, but it's shocking how much each of the characters has gone through. Excluding Warrick, who do you think has been the most injured on the job? Nick, Sara, Morgan, Greg, Brass, someone else?**

**I'm happy to have a discussion, either here or over on Twitter, where I'm going by the username mymindcreates and the name Wandering Wonderer (for easy location).**

**\- Wandering Wonderer**


	5. Office Shenanigans

**Good news! I'm finally getting another journalist at work so I won't be covering all the news by myself! Yay! I have been so run ragged this past month. Worked extended hours during the week and working weekends, just to make sure we have a newspaper.**

**I'm happy to bring this new Morganders oneshot, as it's the first one since CSI season 15 ended. I'll try and churn out as many as I can while inspiration lasts (I'm already mostly done with the next two).**

**Disclaimer: I do not own CSI or anything affiliated with it. I'm only borrowing the characters. Watch the show!**

**Office Shenanigans**

**Premise: **Greg and Morgan are put on a case together. Can they make professional discoveries when they start making personal ones?

**Posted: February 20, 2015**

* * *

"Nu-uh! No way Morgan, you're not having it!" Greg exclaimed, not looking at his colleague and friend Morgan Brody. "I'd rather you die than beat me!"

"You'd have to catch me first!" she growled back. "What is – no! Not the blue shell!"

Morgan covered her eyes and groaned while Greg pumped his fists as Luigi crossed the finish line before Toad. Putting down her Wii controller, she poked her tongue out at Greg, who laughed and stood to reach into the small break room fridge for a drink.

"You owe me a beer, that was the deal," he prodded, passing her a drink too.

"I feel like I've been hustled. You're a lot better at this than you let on. No one's that good at Rainbow Road without extensive practice," she glared at him. "You said this was your first time playing."

Greg grinned the grin that made her insides slop about helplessly. "I said this was my first time playing it on a Wii. I said nothing about not having played a couple of hundred hours on Nintendo 64."

Morgan's eyes widened and she guffawed out an exhale. "Cheater! You big, cheating, cheater!" she punched him lightly on the arm and moved to do it again.

"Morgan, Greg! Case!" CSI night shift supervisor DB Russell's voice ricocheted down the hall.

With a smile, Greg darted out of the office. "Saved by the DB-bell."

Morgan smiled and followed suit, almost jogging to catch up to him after his ridiculous skip-step out of the break room. She caught up to him in the hall and she and Greg waved to Hodges as they passed his work station.

Without a word, Greg slowed his pace so Morgan could walk into Russell's office ahead of him and the two stood in from of their boss' desk. "You know Russell, our phones work," Greg said.

"Have you seen the costs of phone calls, better not risk it. Anyway, you two have a 419 in an alley off the Strip."

Morgan took the proffered file and took a cursory glance at it. "Woman. Early 30s. No obvious signs of trauma. Well," she snapped the file shut. "Greg, you can drive because you've just proven how good you are at it."

She nodded to Russell and then moved out of the office. Greg sent a crooked smile to Russell – who shook his head and chuckled – and then followed after Morgan. Alone in his office, Russell steepled his fingers and pressed them to his lips as he watched the pair move out of sight.

* * *

"So, why Toad?" Greg asked as he hopped out of the car.

"He's so cute! I didn't like playing as Princess Peach on principle and Toad corners well. And excellent strategy can compensate for a lack of acceleration power." Morgan shut her door closed and grabbed her kit out of the back of the car. "What about you, why Luigi?"

"He was the under-appreciated character, a trait I could relate to from back when I was a teenager. Besides, playing with Nick or Warrick, back in the day, I was always the Luigi to their Mario, you know? Plus, I like green."

Walking up to the alley, Morgan nudged him in the side with her elbow. "I always like Luigi better."

Greg couldn't help the smile that spread across his face as he and Morgan approached the ever-diligent Officer Mitchell. "Hey Mitch," he said walking them over to the body. "Blonde woman in her 30s discovered three hours ago, no witnesses."

"Thanks Mitch," Greg said, circling the victim to get a better look.

Morgan knelt down beside the victim, taking preliminary photographs. Greg was silent for a moment as he watched her beside the body. It always unnerved him when the victim was a good looking blonde woman because it brought back stark memories of Morgan lying near death in the dust.

It made him feel better to watch her closely, watch her bring her camera to her eye, throw her hair behind her shoulder or bite her lip in concentration. Something to assure himself she was alive and well. That she was safe.

Suddenly, she was looking at him, eyebrow arched, and he realised she'd said something to him. "What?" he asked.

She smiled, shaking her head. "I said 'no word on coroner yet'. You looked like you were far away, what were you thinking?"

He shook his head. "That we must be expecting David and his first words are going to be "Hey guys, sorry I'm late"."

Morgan smiled. "Bless him, David's a sweetheart. Well, while we wait, shall we search the alley?" standing up and stretching, they both headed further into the alley. "You know," she was looking at a nearby dumpster. "We could find her ID. How often do we find purses in the trash?" Greg joined her by the dumpster and returned a bright smile she sent his way. "It's my turn, isn't it?"

With a mischievous smile to let her know that yes, it was her turn for dumpster-diving, Greg offered her his hand for leverage. His other hand instinctively went to her hip to steady her as she climbed into the dumpster. She took a few moments to take a few tentative steps in the dumpster before she leant over to start sifting through the garbage, still holding Greg's hand.

She didn't let go of his hand until something caught her attention underneath a blue tarp. "Wait a second," she mused.

She lifted the tarp to reveal a very dirty, dishevelled man who was obviously homeless. She and Greg simultaneously made a noise of surprise, before she leant over to check for a pulse.

The moment her fingers touched his neck, the homeless man's eyes snapped open and he flailed his arms and legs, causing Morgan to lose her footing and fall into the garbage. Greg's concern for Morgan turned to fury as the homeless man stood up and tried to extract himself from the bin. Greg pulled his gun from its holster and pointed it at the man.

"Stop right there!" he shouted as Mitchell hurried over, his own gun drawn.

The homeless man froze, one leg thrown over the side of the dumpster. Mitchell hauled him from the dumpster. Greg called to Morgan to ask if she was okay and he got a shaky positive response. He stopped Mitchell from hauling the homeless man away. He examined the homeless man's eyes, they were hazy and dilated.

"What were you doing in the dumpster?" he snapped at the man.

"It's my home," the homeless man slurred pitifully. "I was sleeping."

"A dead woman was dropped on your "doorstep" about three hours ago. Did you see anything, or hear anything?"

"Nah man, no woman, 'cept the one in my home. But she ain't dead, you're confused."

Greg sighed. "He's drunk. He didn't see anything. Thanks Mitch." With that, he turned back around and hauled himself up to look in the dumpster. "Morgan, are you sure you're okay? Did you hit your head? Or cut yourself?"

"No, I'm all good. Not a scratch on me, but he probably shaved a few years off my life." She stood up and tried wiping at her face, only to smear more dumpster muck on her cheek. "I can't find any purses or wallets, I think I had a heart attack for nothing." As she focused on getting out of the dumpster, she realised Greg had already offered his hand in assistance, a concerned look on his face. "I'm covered in dumpster-muck, I wouldn't want to get any on you."

His expression changed to one of fond exasperation, and he wiggled his fingers at her, which elicited a laugh from her as she accepted his hand. Her foot caught on the edge of the dumpster and she fell into Greg's embrace, both grunting from the sudden change.

They looked at each other and laughed. Morgan was momentarily distracted by the definition of his bare biceps under her hands. She liked when he wore a t-shirt under his CSI vest. The suit was a good look too. Very good, in fact. But she especially liked the way his arms looked in a t-shirt.

She stepped back with a grateful smile, her fingers lingering down his arms as they dropped their embrace. Greg suddenly chuckled as he moved his hand up her shoulder, brushing off the browned remains of a banana peel. She was suddenly very aware of the muck she was covered in and she bemoaned her situation as they walked back to the car.

Greg was being both helpful and unhelpful as they walked, flicking of some debris in one instance before wiping an oil-slicked pigtail on her cheek. As they approached the police tape, Greg had just liberated a piece of lettuce that was tucked into the top of her vest, when David arrived.

"Hey guys, sorry I'm late. What happened to you, Morgan?"

"I startled a homeless man and he returned the favour," she replied, wiping at her cheek. "I'll just go clean up."

"I'll be with the victim, come see me when you're ready."

Greg followed Morgan back to the car, reaching in for a CSI jumpsuit while she shed her jacket. As he passed her the jumpsuit to change into, she also reached for a blanket so he could create a makeshift wall for her to change behind.

"Thanks Greg," she smiled over the top of the blanket while she rid herself of her dumpster-mucked pants.

He was making a show of looking up at the sky while she changed. "Yeah, well," he paused. "At least this is a great reminder that it's my turn next time."

"True. I'm done."

Greg dropped the towel in the back of the car and watched as Morgan sat down on the edge of the car to take her hair out of the pigtails. He was entranced as he watched her run her fingers through her hair. She then pulled her hair back and up into a bun and smiled at him.

"There, how does it look?"

Without saying a word, Greg leaned over her and pressed his lips to hers in a soft kiss. The world around them slowed for a moment as they lost themselves in the kiss, then Morgan pulled away with a small hum, pressing two fingers to her lips.

"Oh god, I'm sorry."

She hummed again and shook her head. "It's not that, it's just – not here."

Greg smiled sheepishly, scratching his cheek. "Right, good idea. I just – first the victim, she looks like you – then…with the dumpster – and then your smile – and I just – "

She smiled again. "My smile? You're the one with the extremely attractive smile."

He graced her with the exact brilliant smile she had been speaking about. "Can we – get breakfast after shift?"

"I'd like that. A lot."

"Hey guys?"

The spell of contentment around the pair was shattered as David called out them. Looking around the back of car, which luckily blocked the assistant coroner's view of them, they saw David waving them down.

"I found something, come have a look."

* * *

"So it was a natural death?" Russell asked, looking at the pair over his desk.

"Yep, Doc Robbins found evidence of a birth defect. A time bomb waiting to happen. Prints came back to a Missy Daniels. Multiple charges of prostitution. Doc found evidence of sexual activity, so we're thinking she'd just finished with a john and her heart defect kicked in," Greg explained.

"We found a semen contribution and found finger prints that weren't hers, so we'll track down the john to confirm," Morgan added.

"Well," Russell said, leaning back in his chair. "Good job you guys. Are you likely to get the results back this shift?" The two younger CSIs shook their heads. "Then head home for the day, you can finish it off tomorrow. Any plans?"

The two shared a look. "Uh," Greg started.

"Greg's treating me to breakfast because he cheated at Mario Kart."

"I didn't cheat, you asked me if I'd ever played Mario Kart on Wii and I said no. Because I hadn't."

They shared a smile, before looking back at Russell, who was watching them carefully. Their smile dropped from their faces.

"Well," Russell repeated, leaning forward. "Enjoy your night, you two."

Greg and Morgan tried to look like they weren't fleeing their supervisor's office to head to the locker room. Once safely ensconced in the small room, they separated to their lockers, trying to keep the smiles off their faces.

"Give me 10 minutes to get changed and make myself presentable?" she asked, looking at him over her shoulder. "If you give me a little longer, I could have a shower. I smell a bit ripe from my roll in the dumpster."

Closing his locker, he moved over next to her. With a quick look around, he leaned in and placed a tender kiss on her lips, pulling away with a smile.

"You look presentable to me."

She gave him an arch look, standing there in her CSI jumpsuit and messy, mucky bun. He couldn't help the bright, unaffected smile that spread across his face. He gave her another quick kiss, this time on the temple.

"And I've smelt worse."

She smiled at him, her eyes soft and tender. "You're a sweetheart. Give me 15 minutes, including a shower, and I'll meet you in the parking garage. All right?"

He nodded, his smile still in place. With one more kiss to the temple and a lingering touch to the hand, he left the locker room. Left alone, Morgan took a deep breath, knowing that what she and Greg were about to embark on was special.

* * *

**I've always wanted to see Greg and Morgan interact romantically in a work setting, so that is where this scenario came from.**

**Funnily enough, this story and the one I intend to upload next time were once one and the same. The dumpster bit and the part straight after it were directly from a once-upon-a-time extended story. I got stuck in the story, pulled it to bits and used some parts I liked in this story and other aspects will be used in the next one.**

**\- Wandering Wonderer**


	6. Murder to my Ears

**Greetings, fellow Morganders fans. I know we're all disappointed with the news of CSI coming to an end and we all have our fingers and toes crossed for a Morganders-ever-after. I have uncrossed my fingers long enough to complete this story, which was sitting unfinished in my Incomplete folder since the last oneshot was uploaded.**

**I had always wished for a CSI episode that would make use of Elisabeth Harnois' singing voice as part of the case. Since we don't, I wrote it.**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own CSI, it's characters or the legacy it has created. Congratulations to CSI for 15 years of interesting, groundbreaking entertainment. Watch the show!

**Murder to my Ears**

**Premise: **There's been a series of murders relating to a karaoke competition and the CSIs need someone to collect DNA samples of the remaining contestants. Too bad only contestants can go backstage. _Morganders. Sexual references._

**Posted: August 13, 2015.**

* * *

"Look, we found a dead woman in a ditch, another one on an oval and a dead man in a toilet." Finn was close to banging her hand on the idiot man's desk. "Each one was a contestant in your competition."

The man behind the big desk – clearing overcompensating for something, Finn surmised – leaned forward. "I'm sorry, but this is the National Karaoke Competition. We can't afford you stomping around scaring people who might be the next big thing."

"Look, with all due respect," Las Vegas CSI night shift supervisor DB Russell said. "One of those same contestants may be the killer. We have reason to believe these people were killed here and dumped in the places where they were found. I think you owe it to your "next big thing" to air on the side of caution and let us do our job."

"Look," the man said. "Our competition moves from location to location at the Vegas hotels. Just go do your science thing at the places they were killed."

"That's the issue, because there's a mobile cohort of suspects, we need to process your contestants," Russell explained.

"No way, this competition took three years to get off the ground. Now," the unhelpful man said, picking up his phone. "I need to organise an extra heat because I have three contestants to replace. I'd like you to leave."

Finn all but growled as she and DB got back in their car. "The nerve of that man! We're trying to catch a killer and he won't let us talk to potential suspects. We should just get a warrant."

"The more I think about it, the less I like the idea of speaking to the suspects. As we have a mobile suspect pool, we wouldn't be relying on much other than their testimony. We need to get someone in there, without them knowing and trying to destroy what little evidence we may find."

"What, you mean undercover?"

"Exactly," Russell said. "But where can we find someone who sings well enough to win the next heat but won't destroy any potential evidence?"

Finn smiled wide as he turned on the car. "I know the perfect person."

* * *

"Morgan!"

Morgan Brody, Sara Sidle and Greg Sanders all looked up from the evidence they had been poring over in the layout room. Finn almost bounced into the room, DB close behind her.

"Morgan, we need you."

"Need me, for what?"

"An undercover op," Russell said.

Morgan's face clouded over, remembering the last undercover operation she went on. She felt a phantom pain in her back as she recalled the sound of the gunshot.

"Oh, really?"

"It's at a karaoke competition," Finn explained, warbling her words like she was dangling bait. "We need someone to get behind the scenes and flush out a killer. Three competitors have been killed and with our competition moving from hotel to hotel, only the suspects are the staple in our investigation."

"We would just need you to collect fingerprints and saliva behind the scenes, from discarded coffee cups and things like that," DB added.

"Well, okay then. But have you spoken to my Dad about this?"

Russell whipped out his phone and speed-dialled Conrad Ecklie. "Conrad, I haven't caught you at a bad time have I? Here, let me put you on speaker. There. Listen, we need Morgan to go undercover as a contestant at a karaoke competition to collect prints and DNA from other competitors' trash to find a match to fingernail scrapings on three dead bodies."

"Is Morgan up for this?"

All eyes turned to Morgan. "Yeah Dad, I can do it, it's fine."

"Then I give my permission on one condition."

"And what is that?" Russell asked.

"That I get to watch her perform."

* * *

"Greg, you do not know what you missed out on when we heard Morgan sing at that bar on our girls' away weekend," Sara said, as she and Greg went about their end-of-shift routine in the locker room.

"You mean the weekend you got shot at and Finn was hit by a car? Yeah, pity I missed that."

Sara ignored the light sarcasm creeping into his tone. "Regardless, Morgan was absolutely amazing! Did you know she was the singer in a band for a year? Her voice is beautiful, it's scratchy and soulful. If we're off shift, we should go and watch her at the competition."

That actually sounded like a good idea to Greg, who was growing more and more intrigued by what Morgan's singing voice sounded like. "Yeah, okay."

"Besides, she would probably feel more comfortable about a new undercover operation if she saw some familiar faces nearby."

"What about familiar faces?"

Sara and Greg turned to see Morgan in the doorway of the locker room. Sara just stood and smiled, clapping the blonde woman on the shoulder as she left the room. Standing by his locker, Greg shut it and sat down to watch Morgan as she moved to her locker.

"Are you sure you're okay with doing an undercover operation?" he asked.

Morgan paused as she slipped on her jacket, smiling at him over her shoulder. "Yeah, I am. I'll be in the open, in public. Very minimal risk."

"All the same, you don't mind if we come and watch you sing, do you? It's really part because we want you to be comfortable and part because I really want to see you sing."

Morgan sat down on the locker room bench and gently touched Greg's arm. "Thank you for your concern. Yes, I feel safe, but I would love for you to be there."

He smiled tentatively, looking at her. "Yeah?"

She returned his smile. "Yeah."

Greg nodded. "Okay then. What are you going to sing?"

"I don't know yet. Obviously we need me to make it through as many rounds as possible, so I should sing something I know. Better safe than sorry."

* * *

"Welcome to the wild card round of the National Karaoke Competition. Due to a series of events, we can now open up three places in this highly popular event. That means three more people are in running for $15,000 and national recognition.

"We have a microphone and we have our musician ready and waiting, Now, let's bring on the talent!"

Morgan sat at a table in the Palermo with Greg, Sara and Ecklie. Finn and Russell had decided to stand towards the back of the crowded area, in case the competition organiser recognised them. They sat through several painfully awful auditions before three decent performers. Greg and Ecklie, who hadn't heard Morgan sing before were suddenly very apprehensive that Morgan wouldn't make the cut with those three singers before her.

Finally, Morgan took a deep breath and stood up, heading for the stage. When her name was called, her friends cheered loudly. There were also several wolf whistles as she walked on stage. Ecklie bristled protectively and Greg couldn't pretend he didn't react in a similar way.

"Thank you all, my name is Morgan Brody and I hope you like what I have planned," she said with a smile.

She whispered something to the guitarist, who swapped his electric guitar for an acoustic, much to the dismay of most of the crowd. The tingling of the guitar was soon joined by the slow, scratchy tone of Morgan's voice, as she sang the opening words of Little Black Submarines.

All movement in the audience area stopped. At the beginning, Morgan's voice was not particularly loud, but as the song continued, the passion in her voice increased. Sara and Finn, who had heard the younger woman sing before, were smiling smugly at the slack-jawed expressions of those around them.

Greg sat, transfixed. He watched every movement of Morgan's mouth and noticed every expression in her face as she continued singing. After a short guitar solo, Morgan took the microphone out of its stand and moved around closer to the front of the stage.

Once she reached the last repetition of the chorus, the passion in her voice climbed dramatically, singing and sustaining the high notes with a slight staccato. She finished softly, with a quiet hum into the microphone, before she placed it back.

Her short bow was interrupted by thunderous applause and she moved off the stage to take her seat by Greg. The applause died down and the next performer, obviously shaken by Morgan's talent, started his song. Greg leaned over to Morgan and said as quietly – as a noisy room would allow – as he could, that she had been spectacular.

She smiled at him, flattered, as Ecklie moved around to her seat and hugged her – awkward from his sitting position – his smiling face full of pride. "I remember you singing at your grade school's talent show, you were good then but now – Morgan, that was fantastic."

She returned his hug with one arm. "Thanks Dad."

It came as no surprise to anyone what Morgan was among the three winners of the heat. As she was ushered behind the scenes to sign the necessary paperwork, her friends and colleagues convened away from the stage.

It took Morgan 10 minutes to return, this time carefully holding a folded piece of paper. "The semi-finals are tomorrow at the Eclipse. And I got you," she placed the paper in an evidence bag she had in her bag. "The fingerprints of the organiser. He touched the letter."

"Good thinking," Russell said. "Tomorrow will be the bigger night for getting evidence."

"Well," Morgan said, hitching her bag up on her shoulder. "I'm going to need a bigger bag."

* * *

The following night, Morgan, Greg and Sara arrived at the Eclipse to find a gaudily-decorated set. "Ugh," Sara said, wrinkling her nose. "This is way too over the top."

Greg looked around, noting the cameras. "I think it's going to be televised. Still, ugh."

"Morgan, sweetheart!"

The three CSIs were surprised when the organiser of the event appeared if out of nowhere and draped an arm around the blonde. Her knees buckled under the sudden weight and only Greg's sudden grip on her arm kept her upright.

"Morgan, how's your voice? We're putting you up last, we want to save the best for last. So I hope you don't mind hanging out back stage?"

As this was exactly the opportunity Morgan needed, she shook her head. "That's fine with me."

"Listen sweetheart. Between you and me, you've got this in the bag. Yours is the best voice I've ever heard on a karaoke stage. In fact," he said, his hand moving from her shoulders to her waist. "If you stick with me, I could make you a star.

"You've got the look and the voice, if we work closely together, we can make magic."

His voice shifted in tone, becoming suggestive. As did his grip on her waist. With a minute frown, Morgan pushed his hand from her waist and instinctively stepped closer to Greg. Had she looked up at Greg, she would have seen the expression of suppressed anger and repulsion on his face.

"No thank you, I'm only doing this for the fun of it," she said shortly, her hand shifting the take Greg by the wrist for reassurance.

The organiser only then seemed to realise the presence of two other people and Morgan's proximity to Greg. "And who are these two?" he asked.

"Friends," Sara stated, as shortly as Morgan had spoken. "We're here to support Morgan."

"And to look out for her," Greg added, placing his other hand atop the one Morgan had placed on his wrist.

With little more to say – and the glares of all three on him – the organiser moved off to find someone else to annoy. Morgan gave an exaggerated shudder and childishly stuck out her tongue.

"So," Sara said, shaking the atmosphere free of the sleazy event organiser. "What song are you going to be gracing us with tonight?"

Morgan smiled, not yet releasing her grip on Greg's wrist although their touch dropped unseen by their sides. "It's a surprise. Well, I'd better get behind stage and get to work. I'll see you guys later.

With a final squeeze to Greg's wrist and a smile to Sara, she headed off behind stage. As they chose a table, Sara gave Greg a teasing smile, her eyes gesturing to Greg's wrist. The wrist still warm with Morgan's touch, Greg noted.

* * *

Back stage, Morgan mingled with the other contestants, being open and friendly to distract them while she honed in on their garbage. She had already collected three of the nine prints – and DNA samples – from coffee cups, before the first singer was even announced.

"Welcome to the semi-finals of the National Karaoke Competition," welcomed the organiser on stage. "We have 10 incredible singers here for you tonight to perform. Now, we're not going to waste your time with countless match-ups to find the two best among the group. Each singer will be judged on one song. And at the end, the two singers with the highest points will go on to tomorrow night's grand finale. One song; one chance to make it count."

As the first singer was welcomed on stage, Morgan had collected another set of prints and DNA sample. She made polite conversation with the other contestants when they engaged her and she obliged, not wanting to look suspicious. She was well-aware a killer was most likely among them.

By the time she was the only one back stage, Morgan had collected all the fingerprints and DNA samples she needed, all from discarded trash. With the evidence stored safely in her large bag, she was ready when the sleazy organiser called her name on stage.

She went out on stage with her bag on her shoulder. She was greeted by thunderous applause, the word of her vocal prowess having spread. She waved at the crowd, noting Greg, Sara and now her father, at a table. She hypothesised Finn and Russell were somewhere near the back as she whispered her song choice to the guitarist.

With an appreciative nod, the guitarist began the opening notes of Holding Out for a Hero. As soon as the audience recognised the song, they cheered, but were silenced as soon as Morgan sang the opening words "Where have all the good men gone and where are all the gods?"

Morgan knew it was a 1980s pop song, but she had sung a cover with her band back in college and knew how to add her own flair, utilising her style to its best. After the first verse and chorus, Morgan's eyes sought out Greg.

Her eyes were fixed on him as she passionately sang "it's gonna take a Superman to sweep me off my feet". The naturally scratchy tone to her voice complemented the song and her impressive range meant she was able to sing notes as high as she had learnt them and as low as she dared.

The one thing she had never liked about the ending of the song was the ambiguous ending, without it hitting a high note. So she sang the Bonnie Tyler-like "I'm holding out for a hero to the end of the night".

Then, to the delight of the audience, she sang out loudly "I need a hero", lifting up her free hand, reaching for the sky.

She received a standing ovation, led by Ecklie, Greg and Sara from their table near the front of the stage. As the cheers died down, Morgan collected her bag and headed for the table of her friends. Sara hugged her in greeting, Ecklie was brimming with pride and Greg had an expression of entrancement.

The organiser came back on stage, calling for calm, and announced the judges had reached their decision. It came as a surprise to no one that Morgan was one of the two finalists heading to the grand finale.

"As part of a special treat, we have organised for the finale to be held at Le Chateau Rouge. We'll be celebrating what makes Las Vegas great. The glitz, the glamour, the talent! We're going to have it all."

Greg's gaze turned from Morgan at the name of the venue and after explaining its involvement in a previous case, the group left. Morgan waved her friends goodnight and headed back into the lab to drop in the evidence she'd collected throughout the night.

It took her 45 minutes to log in the evidence and get home and she was surprised to see Greg sitting in his car in front of her house. He got out of his car as she did and he made his way over to her.

"Hi Greg, is something wrong?"

He shook his head. "No, but I just wanted to say again that you've been so great during this case. I really wish I'd known beforehand how great you sing."

"Thanks Greg. Did you want to come inside for a bit? I could use a drink."

Greg answered in the affirmative and followed Morgan inside her house. After asking about her musical talent, she explained about her double major and her time in a band.

"Do you regret not pursuing music as a career," he asked, nursing the glass of wine she'd poured him.

"There was a time – when I was working in LA – when I did have a long hard think about my commitment to being a CSI. And then Catherine, Nick and Sara came to LA and I realised I was just in the wrong environment."

Greg pouted playfully. "I wish I could have gone to LA, too."

"What," she smiled. "So we could have that awkward introduction months earlier?"

He groaned. "That was awful, wasn't it?"

She curled her legs underneath herself as she sat next to him on the living room couch. "Not awful. Endearing."

"Yeah, right. I still think about it and cringe."

"I don't know," she said, nudging him slightly. "I thought you were being kinda cute."

"Cute, that's what every guy wants to hear from the woman he – " he cut himself off as he realised what he was saying.

"The woman he, what, Greg?" Morgan asked, turning towards him more.

He sighed and put down his wine glass on the coffee table and then turned to face her. "From the woman he loves. I love you, Morgan Brody."

A bright smile bloomed across her face, a reaction that brought a smile to his face. Morgan set down her wine glass and took Greg by the lapels of his jacket. "And I love you, Greg Sanders."

His reaction was lightning quick, as he leaned in to kiss her, his hands going to her face. They were thus happily engaged when Morgan's phone rang and she reluctantly extricated from their kiss. The caller ID told her it was the lab and she answered the phone, going through a briefing while her eyes never left the sight of Greg's smiling visage.

"Yes, I recognise the name. He was one of the contestants that was knocked out of tonight's semi-final. So there's a warrant out on him? And you'll call me when he's arrested? Great, thanks. Yes, you have a good evening too."

Hanging up the phone, Morgan returned to Greg's embrace, her fingers sliding beneath his jacket and gripping his shirt. "You're not going anywhere, are you?"

"Not if you don't want me to," he responded.

She shook her head. "No, I want to spend quality time with my history nerd."

* * *

Morgan woke to a ticklish sensation on her stomach. Blinking her eyes open and noting the time on the alarm clock, she realised she had several hours before she had to be at the grand finale of the karaoke competition.

The ticklish sensation occurred again and Morgan realised it was a hand on her stomach. As she was lying on her side, she turned her head to see Greg lying behind her, asleep. It struck her that she had never been one in previous relationships to snuggle in her sleep.

Maybe – she thought – she just hadn't found the right person to snuggle with. To cease his sleep-tickles, Morgan laced their fingers together and brought his hand up to her face, where she examined their entwined digits for several minutes.

It was as Greg shuffled closer to her that she realised he was waking up. Turning around in his embrace, she watched with a gentle smile as he opened his eyes. She also felt the warmth spread through her body at the expression of happiness that washed over his face.

That glee was better than any good morning any previous partner had ever uttered to her and she smiled in return, giving Greg a chaste kiss on the lips.

"Wow, it wasn't a dream then," he uttered as his tightened his grip around her, while she let out a short laugh. "What, too cheesy?"

Morgan shook her head, a smile on her face. "No, exactly the right amount of cheese."

Greg nodded and returned her chaste kiss with a slower, deeper one that curled her toes and warmed her heart. With a delighted hum, she pressed herself against him, relishing in his warmth. Their happy exchange lasted several minutes before Greg pulled away and pressed on final peck on the nose.

"How much time do we have?" he asked.

"I have a couple of hours before I have to get ready," she responded.

"Yeah?" Greg asked, rolling onto his back and taking Morgan with him. "And what song are you going to treat us to tonight?"

Morgan shook her head as she smiled. "Not telling. And you," she added, pushing at him playfully. "Need to leave before I start getting ready because I don't want my outfit to give you any hints."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm dressing to match the venue and my song choice and I don't want you to have any clues. It's a surprise."

Morgan burst into a peal of laughter at Greg's pout, as she thought it looked so adorable on a 40-year-old man with bedhead and a crumpled shirt. He playfully poked at her for clues as to her song choice, but she remained unmoved.

For the next hour they laid in bed, where they talked and cuddled. Morgan told Greg more about her time in Los Angeles and he told her about his California years. Just as their bonding through words became bonding through touches, Morgan's phone rang and she and Greg both sighed.

"Hello, Morgan Brody speaking," she said into the phone. "He still hasn't been found? Okay, I have to call my supervisor to see what he wants me to do. Thanks for the update."

Hanging up her phone with a sigh, she turned back to look at Greg, her content demeanour now deflated.

"The suspect still hasn't been found?" he asked, drawing her close.

She shook her head. "I have to call Russell. If he's still out there and he's killed before to stay in the competition, myself and the other finalist are still at risk."

Greg watched – unease stirring in his stomach – as Morgan called Russell. She was right, he thought, she was in danger. But Greg firmly believed she was the only one in danger. Morgan was the best singer in the competition. Even if the suspect killed the other finalist and even if the killer was the contestant that replaced him, he still wouldn't win against Morgan.

But if Morgan was out of the contest, this guy was one step closer to winning $15,000. Greg frowned, disgusted that anyone could think it was worth taking a life for money. And Morgan's life, no less.

"It will be a way to draw him out, yes. Are you – yes, okay. Sure, Russell. You'll all be there? Good, I'll feel safer with everyone there. No. No, I'm not going to tell you what my song is. I didn't tell G – anyone else and I'm not telling you.

"This information packet I was given stated that if you made it to the finale, you were encouraged to dress for the theme. Which is old Vegas." She paused and then laughed. "Yes, Greg will love that."

Greg smiled at the thought of Morgan dressed up in a beautiful gown inspired by the style of old Vegas. If it weren't for the killer on the loose, he would thoroughly enjoy watching Morgan sing in public while dressed in old Vegas style.

"I have to be there at 7.30pm and the competition starts at 8.30pm. I've got two and a half hours to be there and I'll start getting ready in about an hour. Yes sir, it does take that long for a woman to dress up for a big event. Okay Russell, yes, sure, see you then."

Hanging up the phone yet again, she smiled at Greg, though he thought it seemed somewhat forced. "The plan's still a go?" he asked.

Morgan sighed and nodded, snuggling as close as she could into his embrace. "I shouldn't be so nervous, I'll be in public and I will be so well protected –"

"But you've had a bad experience in going undercover Morgan, of course you're going to have some anxieties. Is there anything I can do?"

"You'll be there tonight?" she asked, seeking reassurance.

"You wouldn't be able to stop me."

For a moment, Morgan was silent, chewing on her lips as she revelled in the warmth his embrace provided. Pulling back slightly, she looked him in the eye before pressing a long, deep kiss on his lips. Greg responded to the affection without question, but when her hands travelled to the waistline of his pants, he froze.

"Morgan?" he questioned, pulling away slightly. "What are you doing?"

"If tonight's my last night –"

"Morgan!"

"If tonight's my last night," she repeated with greater emphasis. "I don't want to have missed out on this with you. I love you Greg Sanders; and I want you. Please?"

He stared at her and she could almost see the wheels in his head turning. "Okay," he said, a hand coming up to cup her cheek. "But not for the 'what-if', because everything's going to be fine tonight. I want this because I want you, too. Because I love you, Morgan Brody."

Morgan nodded and she leaned back in to kiss him again. The kiss started softly but built up in momentum and passion and neither party wasted any time in parting their lips for a deeper, more involved touch. The couple made quick work of ridding Greg of his shirt and Morgan's loose trackpants.

The rest of their clothes soon followed and – after a quick detour for Greg to hurriedly remove the single square of protection he had stowed away in his wallet – Morgan pushed him back on her bed and hovered over him with a smile.

"You have just under an hour," she teased.

He raised an eyebrow at her challenge, returning her smile. "I'll make do with what I have."

* * *

Morgan stood at her mirror with a brush and hairdryer in her hands. She studied her reflection as she dried her hair after a quick shower and couldn't quite understand the difference she saw. She had never really believed in the 'post-coital glow' but maybe – like snuggling after sex – she hadn't met the right man, she reasoned.

The smile she saw seemed permanent, it hadn't dimmed since Greg left her 20 minutes ago. Was her skin flushed from the shower or the amazing sex, she wasn't sure. Was she fluttery in the stomach from nerves or happiness, again, she wasn't sure.

After finishing with her hair, she applied some light make-up and then some perfume. Hitching her towel in place, she moved back to the bedroom to pull a floor-length, sparkling gold gown. She'd originally bought the gown several months ago for the just-in-case situations and tonight was just such an occasion.

Slipping into the gown and checking herself in the single floor-length mirror she had, she gave a single turn to make sure everything looked good. She examined how she looked from the front, nodding in satisfaction.

The gown had a plunging neckline down the front but it was tastefully done and she nibbled at her lower lip at what Greg would think. She was certain he'd like it – like her in it – but there was a small, nagging self-doubt in the back of her mind.

Noting she had ten minutes remaining before she left, she decided to text Greg. She chuckled when she saw she'd already received a cheesy, sweet message from him. A deep sense of joy bloomed in her chest as she read and reread his message, incredibly happy she had such a wonderful man in her life.

Granted, Greg had been part of her life since she moved to Las Vegas, but now their connection was so much deeper than it had ever been. She replied to his message with something she hoped was equally as sweet and she collected her belongings.

* * *

Morgan was hiding backstage, trying to stay out of the way of the competition organiser. He had eyed her with a less-than-appropriate expression and she in no way wanted him to spoil the exhilarated mood Greg had awakened within her.

Seated in her little hide-away spot, Morgan – with eyes closed – mouthed the words of the song she was preparing to sing. From behind the curtain, she could hear as the old casino began filling with patrons and she wondered if Greg and her colleagues were already among them.

To pass the time, she scanned the backstage area for any sight of the suspect. She jumped when her phone buzzed and she smiled as Greg's smiling face popped up on her screen.

"Greg," she sighed, tension she didn't know had been building up fled from her body. "Are you here?"

"Yeah, we just arrived. Your dad, Sara, Hodges and I are at a table right near the front, we'll be right there to keep you safe. Are you going to tell me what you're singing?"

Morgan laughed. "No chance, Greg. You only have to wait half hour more. Um," she paused, looking around her to make sure she was alone. "How are you?"

"I'm very, very good. How are you? About the case?" he added hurriedly.

Morgan smiled. "Can the others hear your side of the conversation?"

"I'm sure they can, but remember we're doing all we can to make sure everything turns out all right."

"Well," Morgan smiled, lowering her voice. "I just wanted to tell you I had an amazing time today, I haven't stopped smiling."

"Is that right? Anything else?"

His tone was casual but Morgan could tell he was listening with great interest. "I feel wonderful," she said, her voice low and husky.

She heard him clear his throat. "That's good, keep focusing on that to get you through tonight. Once we catch this guy, everything will go back as it should and you can feel like that all the time."

She grinned. "Really? You'll make sure of that?"

"Promise."

"I'll hold you to that." As she was about say something else, her fellow competitor sidled up to her. "Greg, I have to go, we're starting to get ready back here. I love you."

She heard him murmur "me too" into the phone and it filled her with greater joy. Standing up as she hung up the phone, she accepted the well wishes of her opponent and offered them in return. She learned that he was a young college student who had entered the competition for fun and the possibility of winning $15,000, which he said would help with college fees.

Morgan already knew that even if she won, she wouldn't keep the money because it felt too dishonest considering she was only doing this for work. If there hadn't been someone willing to kill for the prize money, she wouldn't even be there.

She wasn't going to tell him that though. First because the knowledge of an actual killer in their midst would scare him and second, it was presumptuous for her to proffer winnings she may not even win. Maybe this young man would win, she thought, because he did sound very good the night before.

"Anyway, you look beautiful, too," he added.

She smiled. "Thank you, that's very sweet of you to say. You look very nice, as well."

"Hey, you two!" Morgan and her fellow competitor turned to see the competition organiser come over to them. "I'm going to go out and start ramping up the crowd, we're kicking off in 15 minutes and son, you're up first."

Without a further word, the man disappeared in front of the stage with only a long, leering look down the length of Morgan's body. Her upper lip curled up in disgust and she turned away.

* * *

Greg sat alert at his table, his body on edge with the knowledge the killer would most likely show up with the intent of trying to kill Morgan. Suddenly, a goofy grin bloomed across his face as he thought of Morgan and what she'd said over the phone about how wonderful she felt. He felt a sense of masculine pride at her implication that he had made her feel that way.

"What are you grinning about?" Hodges asked, cutting into his pleasant thoughts.

"You know me, anything old Vegas," Greg replied, making a point of gesturing at an old piece of architecture.

He then went on to explain a series of old Vegas facts relating to Le Chateau Rouge. He went on for several minutes before the event organiser came on stage to start speaking to the crowd.

"Thank you all for coming, we have a great turn out tonight. This finale will be a little different, rather than the one guitarist backing up our two performers, we have a band. Gentlemen, make yourselves known."

The house band played a short tune reminiscent of old Vegas and this time, Greg's grin was genuinely about the period of Vegas he enjoyed so much. The organiser then went on to explain that Morgan's competitor would sing first and that following Morgan's song, the three judges – who waved – would make their decision about who would be the National Karaoke champion.

"Any ideas what Morgan's singing?" Sara asked, almost having to shout over the music the band was playing.

All three men at the table shook their head. "She hadn't told us what any of her songs had been leading up to this," Ecklie said. "I actually like the surprise in finding out when she starts singing."

"What about the killer?"

Greg, Sara and Ecklie all glared at Hodges and motioned at him to keep his voice down. Ecklie replied that there were plenty of plain-clothes police officers in the audience and several on the door.

"He'll be stopped at the door. We all know what he looks like, he's not getting anywhere near my daughter," the older man added emphatically.

The music suddenly swelled and the crowd lulled into silence as the organiser reappeared on stage. He welcomed the first contestant on stage and the stage went dark. When the lights came back on, the contestant was standing there dressed in a sharp suit not at all out of place in his surroundings.

With a whisper to the band, the music kicked up and he began a toe-tapping rendition of Elvis Presley's Viva Las Vegas. The song itself sent a wave of city pride through the crowd, who cheered loudly for the energy and lyrics.

Morgan's group of friends recognised the talent and good humour the contestant had but they had strong conviction that Morgan would prevail. When the contestant finished, he got a raucous round of applause and he left the stage.

The stage went dark and Morgan's name was called. Those at the CSI table cheered but when a single spotlight hit the stage, highlighting Morgan standing there in her floor-length gold gown, Greg froze, completely mesmerised.

He was unaware of the wolf-whistles and cheers from the men in the audience. His focus was solely on Morgan. With a nod from her to the band, the music kicked up and the goofy grin on Greg's face was back as he recognised the opening notes of Frank Sinatra's The Best is Yet to Come.

Their song.

Her eyes met his the moment the first lyrics – "Out of the tree of life, I just picked me a plum" – left her lips and she smiled as she sang. As she continued to sing and her eyes trailed away from Greg, Morgan began to sway her hips in time with the music. She sang with good humour and energy, her rendition bringing a smile to the audience's faces.

Removing the microphone from the stand, she moved around the stage. She did it so the killer – if he was in the audience – wouldn't have a stationary target, but the audience ate it up.

Each time she sang the words "the best is yet to come", her eyes found Greg's and she couldn't help but smile wide.

As she neared the end of the song, she sustained the long notes, wanting to show her voice off to its full potential. By the last repetition of chorus, she used her voice's natural raspy nature to embellish the sustained notes, creating a sound she knew to be memorable and hard to imitate.

As the passion in her voice built, come the last line of verse "come the day you're mine", Morgan's voice reverberated in the chests of all the audience members.

In that moment, Greg fell in love with Morgan all over again. She stood up on stage, triumphant. There was an enormous smile on her face, her cheeks were flushed from exertion and the heat of the lights and her chest was heaving from the power she'd put into her song.

For that bright, shining moment, all was right in the world and he stood with everyone else as she received a standing ovation. He instinctively reached an arm out, wanting to touch her.

And then he noticed someone stepping forward just ahead of him – a person near the foot of the stage – his own arm extending. Then he saw the gun and moved without thinking. He climbed onto the table and launched himself at the gunman.

He barely registered the screams of the people around him as he wrestled with the killer, his main focus was on getting the gun out of the man's hand. The moment he received a pistol whip across the cheek just under his eye, he saw his chance and put his hand on the man's wrist, wrenching it. The killer screamed out in pain and dropped the gun, which Greg pushed clear.

"Don't move!"

The man beneath him froze as several guns were pointed at him. Greg – unarmed – turned the man onto his back so Officer Akers, when he came forward, was able to handcuff him. Greg sat back, still kneeling on the ground, and tried to catch his breath and let his thoughts catch up to what had just happened.

Noise was roaring in his ears, just as there was noise all around him.

"Greg!"

Morgan's voice called out over the cacophony and he climbed to his feet just in time for her to kick off her heels, jump off the stage and run into his arms. He encircled her in a firm hug, resting more of his weight on her than she could reasonably take, but he needed to feel as much of her as possible.

Her hands came up to cup his face in order to make him look at her and he stopped short of pulling her into a deep kiss. "Are you okay? Are you okay?" she kept asking him, her fingers sliding through his hair.

As the adrenaline rush left him and he was able to focus on his surroundings, he looked at Morgan and smiled. He leaned into the hug, leaning in to press his forehead into her shoulder. She trailed her fingers gently up and down the back of his neck, whispering her thanks to him again and again.

A sudden clap on Greg's back had the couple wobbling from the extra weight. Morgan looked up to see her father looking at Greg with a grateful expression. Slowly pulling away from their embrace, the pair turned to face the Las Vegas sheriff.

"Greg, you did a brave, stupid thing. I'm going to need you to make a formal statement for the case report. M, are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Dad. Greg just saved my life," Morgan replied, smiling up at her saviour.

"That he did," Ecklie said, clapping Greg on the shoulder again.

"What the hell is going on?"

The CSIs turned to look at the event organiser as he descended from the stage, red in the face with anger. Just as he closed in on them, Russell and Finn stepped forward from where they had been making sure the suspect was processed correctly. It took the organiser a moment to recognise the newcomers.

"What did you do to my competition?" he sneered at Russell and Finn.

"We prevented yet another murder. That man was one of the eliminated contestants, so let us do our job or the media scandal will make sure this competition never runs again," Russell said.

The organiser considered the supervisory CSI for a moment, taking in the older man's stern expression. With a final glance at Morgan – who was now supporting Greg with an arm around her shoulders – he climbed back on stage and took up the microphone.

"Thank you all for your patience and we apologise for the disturbance. An audience member had a health issue. We'll now take it to our judges to see how they're going."

The organiser welcomed the head judge up on stage and the C-list celebrity took the microphone.

"Throughout this competition we have seen some impressive karaoke talent. This winner has stood out since joining in and it is my pleasure to announce the winner as Morgan Brody."

The applause were deafening as Morgan's name was announced and she smiled broadly. She felt Greg squeeze her shoulder in a subtle motion of congratulations and released her so she could go back on stage. He smiled at the sight of her walking across stage with messy hair and bare feet, but she was no less beautiful as she smiled and waved to the crowd.

The other competitor was welcomed back on stage and Morgan gave him a brief hug. "Meet me back stage," she whispered in his ear.

The young man looked surprised but nodded slightly in understanding. Once Morgan moved back over to the event organiser and the head judge, she accepted a trophy and oversized cheque for $15,000. She was pleased to see it hadn't been notarised with her name on it yet, which would make it easier to pass on to her fellow competitor.

Once the event organiser gave his final thank you and farewelled the audience, he ushered Morgan and the other contestant back stage. It took 15 minutes for her to sort out the transfer of the prize money to the young man, who was incredibly touched by her gesture. He insisted she keep the trophy because he maintained she had been the better singer.

"I won't fight you for the money though, I really need it," he said with a smile.

Morgan laughed, nodded and wished him luck in his studies before she left to find her friends.

"Morgan, you were amazing!"

The younger woman heard Finn before she caught sight of her. She smiled as she saw her friends all standing in a group near the entrance, where Finn was waving at her and so she waved in return. Upon Morgan moving up to the group, Russell congratulated her on a job well done and her father enveloped her in a hug.

"You were wonderful, M. I'm so proud of you," Ecklie said.

"Thanks Dad, I'm glad you liked it."

"What made you choose that song?" he asked.

Morgan looked at Greg with a smile as she pulled away from her father. "It felt right."

Greg grinned at her, wanting so much to take her into his arms. He instead consoled himself with the thought that within the next few hours, he would have Morgan to himself, in either his bed or hers, fulfilling his promise to make her feel wonderful.

Maybe, he thought, the best had finally arrived.

* * *

**Seriously, it's been two years since its aired and CSI season 14 was only last week released on DVD here in Australia. I'll just have to rewatch episodes online until I can actually pick up a copy next time I'm in a town that actually sells TV shows in store.**

**I started writing this way before season 15 finished and in my head, it takes place sometime during the season. Nick's still there, he was just at a conference. The next oneshot was also started before the concluding TV movie was announced (I started writing it on Feb 18) and I like it too much to alter it to make it fit into the canon time line.**

**Check my Twitter handle mymindcreates over the next couple of days as I link the versions of the songs I used as inspiration and Morgan's dress for the final song.**

**So I hope you enjoyed this and will enjoy the next one too when I finish it (soon hopefully, I've been bitten by the CSI bug again).**

**\- Wandering Wonderer**


	7. Unexpected

**Hello again! I rewatched 14x02 recently, which made me reinspired to continue writing the fic below. Every day that passes brings us one day closer to the finale. I'm not ready.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own CSI, the show wouldn't have lasted as long if I'd been in charge. Watch the show!**

**Unexpected**

**Premise: **When confessions are made and Greg and Morgan spend a night together, they are set upon a path that changes their life forever. _Morganders._

**Posted: August 17, 2015**

* * *

"Good work today Morgan, what are you up to tonight?"

Before Morgan Brody could even answer her supervisor's question, her colleague and good friend Greg Sanders appeared in the doorway behind her and knocked. She looked over her shoulder and smiled at him.

"I'm not interrupting anything, am I?" he asked from the doorway.

"Nope, Morgan's just finished up on her case," Russell said.

"Oh, well, I have good timing, because I've just finished up too." Greg walked into the office and handed his report to the supervisor.

There was silence in the room as Russell read over the report, all the while Greg and Morgan looked and smiled at each other. They chatted quietly to each other, discussing points of interest in their individual cases. When Russell put down the file, he agreed with Greg's conclusions.

"You've both been very busy lately, what are you getting up to tonight?"

"Well, I was planning on going to visit Finn in the hospital," Morgan said.

"I was planning on doing the same, do you mind?" Greg asked.

"Of course not," she smiled.

"Say hi to Jules for me. You never know, having other people calling her that might just annoy her enough to wake up. Good job today you guys."

After a farewell to their boss, the two younger CSIs moved off to the locker room. They decided to each take their own car to the hospital and made plans to get a drink and some breakfast after visiting Finn. After going about their end-of-shift routine, Morgan all but skipped out of the locker room.

"Last one there's a rotten egg!" she called.

"What are we, 12?"

When he received only a cheeky smile in return, he was up and after her a few seconds later, a bright smile on his face.

* * *

The pair walked into Finn's hospital room together. Morgan set down the flowers she'd bought downstairs and they each took a seat either side of their friend's bed.

"Hi Finn, sorry it's been a few days since I've visited, I've had a double murder to solve. Lately it's been no matter the case, we've each been out there solo. I guess that's the upside of having so many highly-qualified CSIs," Morgan began.

"Nick's replacement is arriving in a couple of weeks and Yeager is filling in for you until you come back. We're still technically short-staffed, but we're making it work by pulling doubles and working solo.

"I miss my friends though," she finished, smiling across at Greg.

Greg watched as Morgan spoke to Finn about her double murder case. He sat in silence, trying to work through his feelings of the last month. He appreciated Sean Yeager's help, but he couldn't like the guy. True, he was a nice enough guy, but his interactions with Morgan rubbed him the wrong way.

The benefit of working solo was that Yeager didn't get to interact with Morgan much. The downside was he didn't get to spend time with Morgan either. It was a lucky happenstance that he had closed his case at the same time as Morgan and he revelled in the time they were now spending together.

"Greg?" Morgan asked, pulling him from his thoughts. "Anything you want to tell Finn?"

He pulled his gaze from her blue-green eyes and soft smile and looked at his bed-ridden friend. "I spoke to Nick two days ago. He's settling in at San Diego and his girlfriend is even looking at transferring there, so that's a big step.

"Sara's still working on her case – suspected poisoning, I believe – and Russell has been lucky enough to pull a series of natural or accidental deaths. Perks of being the boss, I guess. Oh, Russell said to say "hi, Jules"."

Both paused, waiting to see any movement from their friend at the mention of her hated nickname. When none came, they both sighed and fell into silence. Morgan stared at Finn's sleeping face, tears suddenly forming in the corners of her eyes. She wiped them away furiously, shaking her head at Greg's concerned expression.

After a few minutes, conversation picked back up and then after half hour, they decided to get going.

"We'll come back and visit as soon as we can Finn, please wake up soon," Greg said, standing close to Morgan as they left the room.

Walking down the hallway, Greg watched on in concern as Morgan wiped at her tears again. Pulling her to one side once they were outside, he pulled her into a hug and she immediately wrapped her arms around him and sobbed.

"Why does bad stuff keep happening to us?" she cried through her tears.

He held her close, wishing he could say more than "I don't know". He held her until she pulled away and he gave her a soft smile.

She sniffled, wiping at her tears. "Sorry."

A memory flashed through his head. A baby's bedroom. Morgan's tears.

He shook his head. "There's nothing to be sorry for. Come on, let's get some food in you. You must be hungry and tired. We'll fix one, then you can do the other."

She gave him a watery smile and he responded in kind before playfully throwing an arm around her shoulders, leading her away from the hospital. He dropped her off at her car, waited until she was safely ensconced in the driver's seat and then leaned in the window.

"Let's go somewhere different for food. I don't think the diner's going to cut it today. How about that new 24-hour chocolateria?"

Morgan nodded, hands on her steering wheel. "That sounds perfect." He straightened, ready to move to his own car, when she called his name. "Greg?" she asked as he leaned back into the window. "Thank you."

She followed up her words by moving her left hand and gently grazing the back of her fingers against his jawline. She realised what she was doing and froze up, but he only took her hand and squeezed it.

"No thanks needed. Come on, last one there is a rotten egg."

And then with a bright smile and a wink, he was gone, rushing over to his own car. Morgan couldn't help but laugh at his antics, her sullen mood forgotten. Turning on her car, she pulled out, tooting her horn playfully as she passed Greg's still stationary car.

* * *

"I'll have the triple-choc pancakes, with an extra-large hot chocolate," Morgan said.

"I'll get the chocolate and banana French toast and an extra-large hot chocolate. Could we also get a chocolate fondue platter for two, please?" Greg asked.

The waitress bit her lip and nodded at Greg, barely glancing at Morgan. Greg thanked her and looked across the booth at the blonde and smiled. Morgan returned his smile and arched an eyebrow at the waitress, who was still standing there. The waitress moved off in a huff and Morgan returned her gaze to Greg.

"I hate white chocolate," he blurted out.

Morgan blinked at him and then laughed. They then spent the time from then until their food arrived discussing their mutual hate of white chocolate.

She tasted his French toast and he tasted her pancakes and they each agreed the toast was better. They fought a miniature fork war over the last piece of strawberry for the chocolate fondue, which Greg relinquished to Morgan.

As their dishes were cleared away and Greg paid for their breakfast – ignoring her plea to at least pay for her pancakes – Morgan's mind wandered back to Finn lying comatose in a hospital bed. She tried to hide her sudden, sullen mood, but Greg noticed the smile fall from her face.

"Morgan?"

"How can I be so happy when Finn's in a coma?"

Greg reached his hand across the table and gently held her arm. "Hey," she looked up. "Finn wouldn't want you to stop living your life. I think, for example, if we went out for drinks, she'd tell us to have one for her.

"When she wakes up, she'll want us to tell her what we've been up to."

"We can tell her about this place," Morgan whispered.

"Exactly. Now come on, go home and have a good, long sleep. You'll feel a lot better tomorrow."

Greg slid out from the booth and gallantly offered his hand to her, slipping her arm through his as they exited the store. They had made it as far as Greg's car when Morgan sniffled. Without a word, he wrapped her in his arms and gave her a hug.

"Whatever happens," he said, pulling away far enough that he could cup her face in his hands and tilt head up to look at him. "We'll always be there for each other. I'm not going anywhere."

Without another word said, Morgan reached up the short distance and kissed him fervently. Her hands looped around his neck and she sighed into the kiss as he parted his lips for hers. Greg's hands moved from her face to her waist.

Pulling away for breath, he looked at her. "Morgan?"

"I didn't want to wait another moment without that, not with all the things that keep happening to us. Is that okay?"

Greg held her close. "I've wanted to for ages – years. If this is what you want, that's absolutely fine with me."

With that, his lips were on hers, the pair sheltered from the public view by the privacy of his big, black car next to hers. Greg utilised said big, black car and gently pressed her against it, not breaking the kiss.

When his lips moved from hers and onto her neck, Morgan gasped. "Wait."

He pulled away instantly, a gesture she appreciated him all the more for, despite not being what she wanted. She pulled him back to her by the lapels of his suit jacket.

"Wait," she repeated. "Not here." Her lips met his in a whisper of a kiss. "Take me home?"

Greg pulled away from her. "Are you sure?"

Morgan hummed, pulling his body against her as they leaned against his car. "Like I said, I don't want to wait anymore. Not with everything that's happened."

"Morgan," he said seriously. "I really like you. If we do this, I don't want it to be a one-time thing. Or even friends-with-benefits. I want something serious – something real – with you. Is that what you want?"

There was silence. He'd put his heart and desires out there for her to take or leave. With a smile, she reached forward and took hold of him and their future with eager hands.

"That is exactly what I want."

The kissing couple paused in their ministrations to pour into Greg's car. They headed in the direction of Morgan's house, being the closer of the two. Holding hands over the gear shift, whenever they hit a red light, Greg would lift her hand and kiss her fingers.

As they neared her neighbourhood, a thought struck her. "I – I don't have any…protection. Do you have –"

Greg averted his gaze. "No I – I haven't wanted…I've only wanted you."

This time she kissed his fingers and waited eagerly in the car when he pulled in to a pharmacy. The wait was an excruciating three minutes but once he was back, the rest of the drive to her house felt torturous.

Opening her front door, she invited him in. It struck Greg that although he'd been in her house before, it looked and felt different because of the reason he was here. She broke his thoughts by giving him a tender kiss, taking his hand and leading him towards her bedroom.

* * *

Almost two months later, Morgan had her head pressed against her closed locker and sighed, her eyes closed. Her shift was about to start and she was exhausted. Even though Nick's replacement had joined the team and he was a nice guy, he was still a CSI Level 1 so it hadn't reduced the level of work.

Sara had taken up the assistant supervisor position in Finn's absence, so Morgan and Greg had been taking on a lot of solo work. She missed spending time with him. Since their relationship got a running start two months ago, they'd only spent two other nights together, both in a two night succession about a month prior.

For the rest of the time, their schedules had clashed because their solo cases never ended around the same time, as they had that fateful day. She straightened up and opened her eyes at the clearing of a throat in the doorway of the locker room.

"Morgan, are you okay?"

Her face lit up when she saw Greg standing in the doorway. It was with barely suppressed glee that she watched him walk towards her, feeling happier just for seeing his smile. Without a word, he opened her locker – her combination being her birthday – and kissed her behind the privacy of the now opened door.

"Hi," he whispered, his face inches from hers.

She smiled bright. "Hi."

He kissed her again and sighed. "I feel like I haven't seen you in ages, I've missed you."

She kissed him. "I'm here now."

Morgan had just opened her lips to his when he stepped back and sat down on the bench, pretending to fix his shoe. Before she could ask him what happened, Sara walked into the locker room.

"Hey guys, Russell's called a family meeting in his office."

Then the brunette was gone and Morgan was left looking at Greg. "How did you hear her?"

"Years of practice from working in this building. I learnt to tell when someone was walking up behind me when I was working in DNA. Well, ready to go?"

They walked out the locker room together and made their way to Russell's office. There he explained – much to the delight of Greg and Morgan – that they would be working together. They would have the new member of the team with them, but that was okay because both craved just being able to be in each other's presence.

"Sara and I will be on a quadruple out in Henderson. Stay in touch. We're without Yeager now, but more help can be called upon if needed," Russell said.

Greg, Morgan and the new CSI left the office together, as Greg read out the call out.

"It's a 419 at a paintball range. Oh, that's going to be a lot of trace for Hodges," he said. "Be ready to leave in 10 minutes?"

* * *

Morgan and Greg limited their flirtatious banter while in the car with their new teammate, as they didn't want others knowing about their relationship. Let alone the new guy. The talked about the case, about Finn and about the new teammate's impression of Las Vegas.

Being in Greg's presence again and hearing his voice calmed Morgan, having realised that yes, she was tired, but surprised she'd been on edge. Listening to his voice, she started dozing in her seat, content to listen to his voice.

It wasn't until they were at the crime scene and Greg shook her shoulder gently, that she awoke. "Morgan, are you okay? That's the second time today you've been snoozy. Are you really that tired?" he asked, concerned.

She shook her head. "I think now that my body is finally slowing down after running at flat chat for so long, I'm just a little more tired than usual. Don't worry, once we get to work, I'll be okay. I'll have work to distract me."

As the three CSIs made their way over to the crime scene, they were greeted by David Phillips, who was kneeling next to the body. "Hey guys, perfect timing, I was just about the remove the vic's mask."

The CSIs watched as David did just that and their moods plummeted at seeing the victim was just a teenager. "He's so young," Greg said.

Morgan knelt down beside David. "Any I.D., David?"

The assistant coroner searched the teen's pockets but found nothing. "It might be with the rest of his effects back in the locker room."

"I'm on it!" the new CSI volunteered.

"Remember to dust for prints first," Greg called after the eager CSI.

"How's breaking in the new teammate?" David asked.

"He seems good so far. Eager to learn and doesn't mind grunt work, which is good," Greg replied.

Their conversation was interrupted by a sudden and loud sob from Morgan. Greg was by her side instantly, a hand on her back. David asked what was wrong.

"He's just…he's so young. Too young. He shouldn't be here, he should be out having fun," she said, fighting the tears in her eyes.

Greg frowned, concerned by her behaviour. The last time she had cried at a scene had been a baby's kidnapping about two years ago. But at the time, it had been her first time back after a traumatic experience of her own. He was concerned she had faced some trauma again.

"Morgan?" he enquired quietly.

She took a deep breath and steeled herself. "So," she began, looking at David but highly aware of Greg's hand on her back. "Any thought as to cause of death."

"Actually, yes."

David lifted up the teenager's paint-splattered shirt and revealed a gunshot wound in his stomach. The blood was smeared all over his stomach, but had been prevented from soaking through to be seen on his shirt by the paint.

Morgan suddenly stood, her hand firmly over her mouth and ran back towards the car, behind the crime scene tape. Greg stood up rapidly and followed, extremely concerned. Once he reached her, he avoided stepping in the vomitus mass she'd thrown up next to the car.

"Morgan, are you okay?" he asked, his voice full of concern. "You need to go to the doctor. Throwing up at a crime scene isn't normal. Here," he passed her the keys. "You take the car and go to the doctor. We'll collect the evidence and then head back with the body."

"No," she said, straightening up. "I'm fine. It's just…the smell of blood made me feel ill. If I start processing the scene, I'll be fine."

"Morgan –" he began to argue.

"You can take me to the doctor once we've taken the evidence back to the lab and the tests are being run. Deal?"

Seeing he wasn't going to change her mind, he agreed. "If it happens again though, please go to the doctor."

Hidden behind the car, she was able to brush her fingers across his cheek. "Promise."

* * *

If he weren't so concerned about Morgan's health, Greg would have been amused by the distance between her feet and the floor, as her legs dangled over the edge of the hospital bed. He watched the gentle sway of her feet side to side as they waited for the doctor to arrive.

"So, Ms Brody," the doctor said when he finally came in. "I have your results and –" he paused when he realised Greg was in the room. "I'm sorry, and you are?"

"Greg Sanders, I'm Morgan's…" he trailed off, wondering if Morgan reminded revealing the truth, seeing as they hadn't told their friends.

"Anything you say to me, you can say in front of him," Morgan explained, removing the necessity to explain their relationship to a complete stranger.

The doctor looked from Greg to Morgan and back again, before he looked at his chart. "Okay, if you're sure," at Morgan's nod, he continued. "As I said, Ms Brody, I have the results in front of me and you're pregnant."

Morgan's feet instantly stopped their gentle sway and Greg felt his knees buckle. He moved and leaned a hand on the edge of the Morgan's hospital bed in an effort to keep himself from collapsing. Looking at her, Greg was suddenly concerned by the pallor that suffused her face.

"Morgan?" he asked.

"Are – are you sure?" she asked, looking at the doctor.

The doctor nodded. "Between six and eight weeks. Now, if you want, we can schedule your first prenatal appointment for next week to discuss medical history, your due date and such. If you can bring the father," he said, looking at Greg. "We can get a more complete picture on any of the baby's health risks."

Morgan nodded numbly, a hand going up to rest on her belly as she slid off the bed. Greg instantly came over to her, offering her an arm so she could lean on him.

The doctor came forward and handed her a card. "I can see this has come as a shock, so take some time and then call us to set up the appointment."

The couple nodded and left the room, walking in silence to sign the required forms. From there, they walked back to Greg's car and hopped in, sitting in silence. Both of Morgan's hands were resting against her stomach and Greg couldn't help but watch as her fingers shifted minutely against the fabric of her shirt.

"We were careful, right?" Morgan asked, her eyes not leaving her lap. "We used protection every time, didn't we?"

"Yeah, we did. I mean, the doctor said six to eight weeks, so it could have only been that first time. And we made a point of stopping off for protection then."

Suddenly, Morgan was leaning forward, her hands going up to her face as she started crying. Greg's heart clenched and he reached over to her and pulled her sideways into an embrace. She pressed her head into the crook of his shoulder as she wept, her shoulders shaking with the force of her sobs.

He held her as she cried, only able to rub small circles on her back. "I'm sorry," she laughed through her sobs. "I guess it's the hormones."

Greg smiled into her hair and pressed a kiss on her blonde locks. "And completely understandable, Morgan. What do you want to do?"

"I want," she sniffled. "I want to get some brunch."

Greg nodded. "Okay, we'll go get some food and if you want, we can talk."

* * *

Greg watched Morgan as she shovelled scrambled eggs into her mouth. He was trying to appear calm, but inside he was a whirl of emotions. Shock, disbelief and even a little bit of excitement. Watching her as she ate, he knew what he wanted. Two months ago he told her he wanted something real and serious with her.

Yes, the announcement of a baby was quick, but Greg had always known he wanted a deep, meaningful relationship with Morgan. He wanted everything with her, he wanted to be with her forever and he had hoped that one day, a baby would be part of that.

It was all just happening very quickly.

As Morgan wiped at her mouth, Greg decided he wanted that for the rest of his life. He wanted to be there each morning when they woke up, he wanted to be at every meal and he wanted her love.

Morgan got worried when she saw him frown. "Greg," she asked tentatively.

"I haven't told you yet that I love you," he said, looking her deep in the eyes. "I just want to put that out there. I've liked you since before the helicopter crash and I realised I loved you when you were kidnapped."

"Greg," she whispered, tears sparkling in her eyes.

"So, whatever you want to do, I'm there with you."

Morgan reached her hands across the table and placed them gently on his interlocked hands. "I think – no, I know I want to keep the baby. Is that, is that okay?"

Warmth spread through his chest and he knew that yes, it was certainly okay. "Yes, it's definitely okay."

Morgan sighed and nodded, a smile forming on her face. "Okay. Good, okay."

"Morgan?" he asked.

She laughed, somewhat breathless. "I don't know what we do first. Do we make the appointment first?"

"Maybe, I guess. I mean, maybe we should, and – say no if you don't want to – do you think we should tell your dad and Russell?"

She nodded. "I remember when a CSI on days was pregnant, she had to stay out of the field because of the chemicals she could be exposed to. And since we have to tell Russell, I'd rather we tell my father first."

* * *

"Pregnant?"

Conrad Ecklie stared – stunned – at his daughter and the man standing beside her. His eyes trailed to her stomach, almost expecting to see the bump of expectancy.

"Are you sure?" Morgan and Greg nodded. "How – how far along?"

"Two months. Dad, we only found out yesterday."

"We? How long have you two been…together?"

Greg cleared his throat, this had been the part he was dreading. "Two months."

At this declaration, Ecklie stood, staring hard at the younger man. "You got my daughter pregnant as soon as you got together?" his voice was hard and eyes steely.

"You make it sound like I had no part in this, dad. What happened that day was a long time coming and we used protection. Apparently 99% effective wasn't effective enough."

"Morgan," Greg murmured, not taking his eyes from Ecklie's stern gaze.

Then Ecklie sat down, letting out a deep sigh. He ran his hand down his face, covering his mouth.

"So, I'm going to be a grandfather?" At their nods, he looked at Greg. "And how involved are you going to be?"

"I love Morgan, sir." Greg said firmly, taking her hand. "And I want to be as involved as she wants me to be."

A ghost of a smile emerged on Ecklie's face at the younger man's statement. It made him feel even better to see the look of happiness and adoration that suffused his daughter's face at Greg's words. He watched closely as the younger man looked at his daughter and returned the smile with a bright grin.

"What are you going to do next?"

The couple looked at the seated Sheriff. "We've made a doctor's appointment for next week and we were waiting to tell Russell until after we told you."

Ecklie nodded – touched – and watched as the couple started to leave. "Morgan?" he called out to her and she turned.

Ecklie came up from behind his desk and pulled her into a hug. He congratulated her on her news and gently patted her stomach.

"Let me know if there's anything you need from me. That's my grandbaby in there and I want to make up for being a lousy father by being there for you and this little one."

Morgan smiled. "Thanks dad. And for what it's worth, yes, you used to be a lousy father but you've already been making up for it."

* * *

"Pregnant?"

D.B Russell steepled his fingers together and pressed them to his lips. He looked between the two CSIs, his expression hard to read. Morgan and Greg stood in silence. Both knew their relationship was prohibited as per department guidelines.

"How long has this been going on?"

"We've been together for two months," Greg offered.

Russell's eyes fell to Morgan's stomach. "This new development can't be that much younger then, is it?"

"It happened the same day, actually. It was that day when Morgan and I both finished our solo cases at the same time and went to see Finn. After that we…well, feelings were shared."

"Among other things, apparently." Russell was silent for a moment as he considered the pair. "Well Morgan, you can't go out in the field in your condition. From now on, you'll be confined to handling A/V, computer analysis and paper-based evidence. Nothing with forensic powders or chemicals.

"When do you plan on taking maternity leave?"

The couple looked at each other. "We hadn't discussed it yet, we only found out about the baby yesterday," Morgan said.

"Okay," Russell said. "We'll have to discuss it as we get closer to the date because we'll have to organise someone to fill in for you while you're gone. Greg?"

"Sir?"

"What will you say if you have to face disciplinary actions? You are the senior CSI of the two –"

"Russell, I love Morgan. I have for several years. In no way has my love ever interfered with my work, if anything – as certain incidents have proven – it pushes me to do better."

Morgan smiled at Greg's words, unable to stop herself from grasping his hand. Russell considered them for a moment, taking in their body language.

"Well," he said, getting to his feet. "I guess congratulations are in order. Have you told anyone else?"

"Just my father," Morgan said.

"Well, we're going to have to tell the rest of the team because this affects all of us in terms of case assignments. Otherwise, feel free to tell people at your leisure. Shall we call a family meeting now?"

The couple could tell from the steel in their supervisor's voice that the question hadn't really been a suggestion. "I – I guess so," Morgan said.

In a matter of minutes, Sara, the new CSI, Hodges, Henry and David Phillips – the last on behalf of Doc Robbins – had all been summoned into Russell's office. As the team congregated, Morgan and Greg released each other's hands and stood a close – but respectable – distance apart.

"Team, we have an announcement. Morgan, Greg?" Russell prompted.

Morgan stepped forward slightly, taking Greg's hand, which caused the team's eyes to widen. "Greg and I have been together for the last two months and yesterday we found out I'm pregnant."

Mouths dropped and congratulations were given. Sara came forward and hugged Morgan and then Greg. As they received the joyous congratulations from their co-workers, the couple were overcome with happiness and pride. It suddenly hit them that they would be parents in about seven months.

"We ask though," Morgan continued as Greg put his arm her shoulders. "That you keep this news between the team until we make it more publically known next month. We want to make sure everything goes well before we tell other people."

Greg looked directly at Hodges, the hard look in his eyes telling the other man the request was meant especially for him. The other man's eyes went wide, before he recognised the warning and nodded subtly.

After the congratulations waned, Russell made sure Morgan would not be taking an active part in the investigation. She promised to remain in the lab and that she would not take part in processing crime scenes lest she harm the baby.

* * *

The phone calls to Morgan's mother and stepfather; and the one to Greg's parents had been no less eventful. While the younger pair had each talked to their parents about their friends, their parents had no idea of them having been closer.

"I'm glad you and Morgan finally worked things out," Greg's mother had said over the phone. "Your father and I had always assumed you and she had a will-they-won't-they relationship by the way you always talked about her."

Greg had averted his gaze, staring at the ceiling as his mother had continued to embarrass him over the phone while Morgan sat beside him, a smile on her face.

"And Morgan is really pregnant?" there was a slight hitch of excitement in his mother's voice.

"Yes, Mrs Sanders, I am."

They spent the next half hour talking to Greg's parents, including the fact that no, they didn't know the sex of the baby, yes she was already experiencing mood swings and thank you very much for the tips on managing nausea.

"Morgan, I know from Greg that you have a loving family, but please feel free to call us if you have any questions. Greg is our baby, our only child. And now my baby is having his own baby."

The younger couple could hear that Greg's mother was getting choked up and said their goodbyes before calling Morgan's mother. Her mother was slightly more standoffish about the fact a man had gotten her daughter pregnant after such a short period of time.

Greg spent most of the time on the phone trying to reassure Morgan's mother that he loved Morgan and wanted to be as involved as possible with the baby. He also had to field questions about his financial situation, career goals and education.

"Look mum," Morgan said as she sighed. "Greg is a good, smart man who has good standing in the department and upward mobility. He's the kind of CSI who could be a shift supervisor someday –"

"And do you know the kind of man your father became when he became shift supervisor. I suppose you already told you father about your pregnancy. Before me, didn't you?"

Morgan had sighed and rubbed her hands over her face, reminiscent of how Ecklie had early that day. "Mum, please, let's not get into this. We wanted to tell you our good news and I won't listen to your same argument about dad. Look, I'm tired, it's been a big day and now I have a baby to think about. I'll speak to you soon, I love you."

* * *

The next month was a whirlwind of change for Greg and Morgan, as they began researching suitable health care professionals and went in for their first prenatal appointment. Morgan's body began going though changes too, as her breasts started growing and her nausea became worse.

As they entered into the second trimester of pregnancy and let the news be known around the office, Morgan found that her sex drive had returned. On more than one occasion she cornered Greg in a supply closet or in the back of his car for a quickie.

The couple began settling into a routine between work and home life as well. Between work, visits to a still-comatose Finn and home, the pair started to plan their days around each other.

One evening about four and a half months into her pregnancy, Greg was lying in his bed, watching her sleep beside him. Morgan had always had a flat stomach, so by week 16, her baby bump was already very noticeable when she wore the right clothing. He loved – he mused – that he was the only one that really got to see her in this state because at work she still wore her loose fitting striped shirts.

Morgan turned towards him in her sleep and he couldn't help but reach out and press a hand on her baby bump. There was still a couple of minutes before their alarm was set to go off so he relished the time he could spend in Morgan and their baby's presence.

She stirred from sleep before the alarm went off and Greg greeted her with a kiss. "Good evening," he whispered, caught in his own spell of happiness.

"Good evening," she whispered in return. "What has you so smiley?"

"You. Us."

"Yeah? I'm glad."

"Morgan, I've been thinking, can we move in together? It seems stupid to split our time between two places. And I thought," he added, stroking her belly. "It would be nice to have somewhere new, that we as a family can start a new chapter in our life."

Morgan considered him and his statement for a minute, thinking about his suggestion. "Okay, yes. Let's do it."

He grinned. "Yeah?"

She nodded enthusiastically, sitting up slightly. "Yeah, let's make a home together."

Greg sat up with her and pressed a deep kiss on her lips before he leaned down to kiss her stomach. "With the renovations I've made to this place over the years, I can get a good price for it. Then, if we do the same for yours, we should be able to afford something fit for a family, that's closer to work and in a good school district."

Morgan smiled and stroked a hand down the side of his smiling face. "You've already thought about this a lot, haven't you?"

Greg saved himself from having to incriminate himself by pressing a deep, sensual kiss on her lips.

* * *

"Greg, please! I'm six months pregnant, not an invalid," Morgan said, sighing in exasperation.

"But you're just so cute. You've started doing the pregnant waddle and it's so adorable."

Morgan looked over her shoulder at Greg, her exasperation dissipating at the charming, goofy grin plastered on his face. He opened the door to the bedroom they were standing in front of with one hand, holding the box he's confiscated from her with the other.

Looking at the open space of the bedroom, the couple couldn't help but smile. "I can't believe this happened so quickly," Greg said, looking around the room that would soon become the nursery.

"Well, the only thing that took us time was actually getting together. You could almost say we're catching up on time we could have had," Morgan replied.

Greg nodded as he put the box down and came up behind her again, pulling her into an embrace. "We found our home so quickly."

"I'm glad we did, it means we still have a few months left to prepare. Do you think," she began, looking around at the colour of the bedroom. "Do you think he'll like the colour of his room?"

The expectant couple had found out the sex of their baby two weeks beforehand but decided to keep that piece of information between them. Knowing they were having a son made the impeding birth so much more real to them.

In the office, Greg started to get teased about how often and for how long he would gaze at Morgan. Sara, Russell and their new colleague had lost count on how many times they had to clear their throats to catch Greg's attention. Sara had even started a photo collage of "gooey-eyes Greg", using photos she snuck on her phone. She planned to give it to the couple upon the baby's birth.

"I'm sure our little bean will love it," he said, kissing her temple. "Who do you think he's going to look like, you or me?"

"I don't even care, I just want him to be healthy. Why, what do you want him to look like?"

"I don't care either, I just," he paused, gnawing on his thoughts for a moment. "I got teased a lot growing up because of my ears."

Morgan turned in his embrace to face him, looking at him with fondly. "I love your ears," she said, reaching up to stroke the shell of one of his ears. "And I love you. And I love our baby. Now come on, let's finish building this crib before the team arrives for the housewarming."

* * *

Morgan was so glad when she finally went on maternity leave. In the weeks leading up to her time off, people in the office were giving her a wide berth in the halls and treating her like a fragile flower. Greg became her second shadow and offered her seats wherever they were.

Whenever at home, Morgan spent most of her time either sleeping or going to the bathroom. She loved the times when she would wake up to find Greg by her side, brushing a hand over her swollen belly. One of the blessings of living closer to the office was that he and even sometimes her father would drop by to see how she was doing.

Three weeks before her due date, Morgan was feeling incredibly needy. She had missed Greg for the past few days. The team – now assisted by CSI Sean Yeager while she was on leave – was working on a triple murder involving a mogul, his mistress and another still-unidentified woman.

Dressed in a loose-fitting day dress, Morgan was resting on her and Greg's bed, munching on some healthy snacks while watching late night television. She was fully engrossed in the Wednesday night feature movie when it was cut into a news report.

"We interrupt your current programming with a report of a hostage situation in process. Police have an apartment room on lockdown, but there are reports of two Las Vegas Police Department crime scene investigators were inside the room when the suspect returned and took them hostage."

Morgan sat up sharply and gasped, her heart skipping a beat at the thought of Greg or anyone on her team in danger. She reached for her phone and dialled his number, praying – tears in her eyes – that he would answer.

When his voicemail popped up, she hung up instantly and then immediately dialled her father. She thought it was about to ring out when he answered on the last ring.

"M, please tell me you're okay? Are you sitting down?"

"Who's in there? Dad, who's in there?"

"M, are you okay?" Ecklie replied.

"Yes, I'm fine! Who's in the room?" she snapped, raising her voice.

"Greg and Russell. They were in there processing the apartment of a man connected to the mogul's mistress."

"What can I do?" she asked, swinging her legs over to the side of the bed to get up.

"Nothing M, we're handling it. You stay at home and you stay sitting down. I'll let you know if anything changes. You just take care of my grandchild."

"But dad –" she said, standing up from the bed.

"No, Morgan! We will handle this and we will get Greg and Russell out of there safely."

A gunshot pierced through the background in her father's phone and Morgan's head snapped towards the TV, where she saw as police stormed the room. Her knees buckled and she fell against the side of the bed, falling to her knees.

For two nerve-wrecking minutes, she watched as the police disappeared into the room, before she wept with relief as Greg and Russell were escorted out. She scrambled for her phone and disconnected the call she realised was still open with her father.

She called Greg's number again and was able to watch on the TV as he fished into his CSI vest to pick up his phone. "Greg, are you okay? Are you hurt? I love you so much!"

He sighed into the phone and she could see him smile on TV. "I'm fine, Morgan. I'm sorry I didn't answer your call before, I was a bit tied up. Are you okay, how's the baby?"

"We're fine, just so glad you're okay."

Morgan struggled to her feet, so relieved that Greg was alive. His lame attempt at a joke in the face of literally being bound at the hands calmed her nerves. Moving to sit back on the bed, she was surprised to feel a wet warmth trickle down her legs.

"Oh, oh! Greg!"

"Morgan, what's wrong?"

On the TV, the camera was now trained on the news anchor at the scene and Morgan could see Greg standing in the background, the phone to his ear and a frown on his face.

"Morgan?"

She heard him over the phone and on the television. She whispered what was happening into the phone.

"What do you mean your water just broke?"

Morgan found it slightly humorous that Greg was loud enough that the news anchor onscreen turned to look at him at his exclamation.

* * *

The Las Vegas CSI graveyard shift team was sitting, exhausted, in the waiting room of the maternity wing of the hospital. The only one standing was Conrad Ecklie, who was pacing back and forth in front of the doors that lead to the wing of the hospital where Morgan was giving birth.

After several coffee runs by Sara and the CSI 1, the doors to the birthing rooms opened and Greg exited with a wide grin and a bundle in his arms.

"Guys, I want you to meet Eric Morgan Sanders."

Almost as one, the team stood and came forward, smiles spreading over their tired faces. Ecklie approached the Sanders pair first, joy sparkling in his eyes.

"Greg, may I?" he asked.

Greg smiled. "Come on little man, say hello to your Pop-Pop."

"No."

"Grandpa?"

"Better," the older man said, taking the infant in his arms. "Hello Eric, it's very nice to meet you."

Russell came around and clapped Greg on the shoulder, congratulating the younger man. "Greg, he's amazing. Congratulations."

"Thanks Russell," Greg responded, smiling brightly.

"How's Morgan doing?" Sara asked.

"Great! She's resting for a few minutes, then she said she's happy for visitors," he said, stroking his son's tuft of blond hair as he snoozed in his grandfathers' arms.

All the visitors grinned as Eric gave a yawn, wriggling in his grandfather's embrace. During his wriggling, one of his small hands came out from within his blankets. Ecklie, Russell and Doc Robbins – all who had experienced the joy in a newborn – smiled as Greg gently brushed a finger over his son's hand, his eyes watering as little Eric wrapped his hand as far around his dad's finger as possible.

After several minutes of fawning over the infant, Greg took Eric back in his arms and asked Ecklie, Sara and Hodges to come back and see Morgan. Heading back to Morgan's suite, the group saw the new mum resting in her hospital bed. Greg – still holding Eric – moved over to Morgan and sat down on her bed, where she smiled and rest her head on his shoulder, where she reached over and brushed at her son's hair.

"M, how are you feeling?"

"Fine, dad, just tired. Isn't he beautiful?"

Ecklie and the other visitors agreed. "Sara, Hodges; Morgan and I have been talking and," Greg began, looking at Morgan for direction.

"We would like you to be Eric's godparents," Morgan finished, smiling at the gaping pair.

After their shock wore off, the pair graciously accepted the role and congratulated the new family again, before leaving so other members of the team could come in.

An hour later after the team had left the new family, Greg, Morgan and baby Eric rested together on Morgan's bed. The baby was awake and looking between his parents intently, taking in every movement they made. With a sigh, Morgan stroked a finger down her son's nose.

"I'm so happy Greg. I love you so much."

He turned his head slightly and pressed a kiss into her hair. "I love you, too. Thank you for giving me so much happiness."

Eric gurgled, a gummy grin spreading across his pudgy face. Morgan and Greg smiled in return.

"You know," Morgan said, lifting Eric higher so she could press a kiss to his forehead. "We certainly have something to tell Finn when she wakes up."

* * *

**Why Eric? For the very obvious reason of our Master Szmanda. Plus, the name 'Eric' has Scandinavian origins which fit perfectly into Greg and Morgan's heritage.**

**\- Wandering Wonderer**


	8. Meet the Parents

**Welcome, welcome to another Morganders oneshot. This is dedicated to Twitter's your_my_best, who wanted Morganders fluff.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own CSI. Watch the show!**

**Meet the Parents**

**Premise: **Greg's parents are in town and they want to get to know Morgan. How much embarrassment can one man take? _Morganders._

**Posted: August 24, 2015**

* * *

Greg Sanders and Morgan Brody stood together in the LVPD criminalistics lab hall, pouring over a file related to their case. They were waiting anxiously on results regarding their case and had just returned from following up on a lead that turned out to be a bust.

"Can you two stop hovering, please? I get more work done when left to my own devices," Hodges said, poking his head out of his lab space.

"Funny, I thought you played to an audience," Greg replied, sharing a smile with Morgan.

Hodges rolled his eyes and popped back into his workspace, muttering to himself. Greg and Morgan shared a short laugh before returning to their file. Taking a hold of a corner of said file, Morgan leaned closer to him, her arm pressed firmly against his.

"Hey," he said, noticing her hands. "You painted your nails."

"Do you like the colour? It matches my mistletoes," she replied, levelling her blue-green gaze on him.

He grinned. "I thought so, it looks good. Hey, that reminds me, do you want to get a drink after work?"

She raised an eyebrow at him. "How did that remind you?"

His smile turned sheepish. "It didn't, it was just a lame attempt at a segue to ask you out for a drink."

"Honesty, I like that. And of course, I'm always up for a drink with you. Anywhere in particular?"

"I was thinking –"

"Greg, you've got visitors!" came Henry's voice down the hallway.

The two CSIs turned towards Henry's voice and Greg's eyes widened and he smiled as he registered the two faces unfamiliar in the lab's halls. "Mum, Dad! What are you doing here?"

He jogged down the hall, allowing his mother to pull him into a hug, which he returned with gusto. Once released from her embrace, his father pulled him into a hug, giving him a hearty clap on the back in the process.

"We wanted to surprise you. Your father got some time off work and we thought we'd use it to come see you and for you to show us the sights of Las Vegas," Greg's mother explained as she fussed with the slight creases in his jacket.

Greg's gaze fell on Henry, who still stood to the side watching the exchange with his usual blend of obliviousness and interest. Ignoring the still intruding man, he replied to his mother's explanation and offered for them to stay at his house.

"That's nice of you to offer, son, but we know your sleep schedule and don't want to intrude. Plus, we've never stayed in a Las Vegas hotel before, it'll be an experience," Greg's father responded.

"All right, if you're sure." Greg turned to see Henry still standing there. "I see you've met Henry."

"Yes, he was kind enough to escort us through, even though I'm sure he'd very busy," Greg's mother said, smiling at Henry.

"Being the DNA lab tech, I'm sure he is," Greg said, looking at his friend and colleague.

Henry seemed to finally realise he'd outstayed his welcome and excused himself. Greg asked his father a question but the older man was looking over his son's shoulder, a small smile on his face.

"And who is this lovely young lady?" he asked.

Greg whirled around and saw Morgan had approached slowly, not wanting to intrude on the reunion, but curious nonetheless about Greg's parents. "Oh, sorry," Greg said, moving over to Morgan and gently guiding her closer to his parents. "Morgan Brody, these are my parents Ilse and Darian Sanders. Mum, Dad, this is Morgan."

Ilse's face lit up in a smile. "So you're Morgan! Greg wasn't exaggerating when he said you were beautiful."

"Oh, thank you –" before Morgan could say anything else, she was pulled into a hug by the older woman. "Oh, okay, sure. It's very nice to meet you too," she said, smiling at Greg's embarrassed expression over his mother's shoulder.

Her handshake with Greg's father was just as sincere as her hug with his mother. Examining the older couple, Morgan could see that Greg got his build and smile from his father, but his eyes and caring, sweet personality came from his mother. She thought him a perfect blend of the two standing before her.

"Do you want a tour of the lab? We're still waiting for results from the trace lab," Morgan offered, wanting to give Greg time to spend with his family.

"That would be lovely dear, thank you," Ilse said, taking the offer to mean that both Morgan and Greg would provide the tour. "My, what a lovely shade of nail polish you're wearing."

Morgan smiled and looked up at Greg. "It was actually a gift from Greg the Christmas before last, he was my Secret Santa."

"My Greggy is such a gentleman," Ilse said, smiling proudly at her clearly embarrassed son.

"He is," Morgan added, relishing in the opportunity to make Greg uncomfortable.

"Yes, well, this gentleman should begin the tour before his ego gets any bigger," he said, moving forward towards the trace lab.

* * *

"And how long have you been in Las Vegas now, Morgan dear?" Ilse asked as they ended their tour at the front desk.

"About four years, Mrs Sanders –"

"Ilse, please."

"Ilse," Morgan said. "The position became available and my dad was here, so I thought it was worth a shot," she sent a smile Greg's way. "And I haven't regretted it since."

Greg couldn't help the grin that spread across his face and cleared his throat. "Well, what are you guys up to now?"

"We thought we'd go get some dinner. We'd invite you son, but you seem very busy," Darian said.

"Yeah, sorry –"

"Don't be silly Greg, we're still waiting on results and it's about break time anyway, I'll give you a buzz if anything happens," Morgan interjected.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"Of course. In fact, you've inspired me to go have my break in my dad's office and spend time with him. I'll see you when you get back."

With another hug from Ilse, Morgan watched the Sanders family leave, very happy in seeing such a glimpse into Greg's life.

* * *

Upon his return an hour and a half later, Ilse insisted on saying goodbye to Morgan before the older couple went to their hotel for sleep. The Sanders family found Morgan leaving Hodges' lab, her phone in her hand.

When she noticed them, she smiled. "I was just about to text you. Hodges got the results back and the moist substance on the shirt came back as a medical cream used to treat acne."

"Well, the victim didn't have a prescription at his apartment, which means –" Greg replied.

"It must belong to the killer," Morgan finished with a nod.

"You finish each other's sentences. That's so cute," Ilse said with a wide smile.

Greg's cheeks reddened with a slight blush. Morgan gave the older woman a slight, embarrassed smile. Darian Sanders, sensing the tension, changed the subject.

"Well, we'll leave you to your work. Your mother and I will pick you up at the end of your shift for breakfast."

Greg's slight smile dissolved from his face. "Oh, um," he said, looking at Morgan.

Morgan shook her head minutely. "It's fine Greg."

"Oh," Ilse said. "Did you two have plans?"

"Yes, but you're here visiting, of course Greg should spend time with –"

"You have to join us for breakfast then Morgan," the older woman continued. "We don't want to steal Greggy away from you completely."

* * *

Greg stared at his mother, seriously believing she was going out of her way to embarrass him with stories from his childhood. His only consolation was that Morgan – with her bright smile – was lapping it up. And he knew, if he asked, she would keep it between them. He had always been able to trust her with his secrets.

"Completely naked?" Morgan queried.

"Bare-bottom nude and running through the house while we had guests," Ilse elaborated.

Greg audibly groaned, hiding his face in his hands. Morgan laughed lightly and placed a hand on his arm, patting him with sympathy. Her teasing smile did nothing to assuage his embarrassment.

"Don't worry Greg, it sounds really adorable. You were in California, you were hot and you were six, of course you're going to strip," she said, patting his arm. "I probably did the same thing when I was six."

"Then why don't we hear some embarrassing stories about you?" he asked, giving her a lopsided grin that made her heart skip a beat.

"Ah yes, but my parents aren't here. And I can only imagine the look my dad would give you if you asked if I ever stripped as a kid."

Greg poked forlornly at his breakfast, mumbling something about "sheriff" and "unfair". Morgan laughed again and placated him by scraping her grilled tomatoes – which she knew he loved – onto his plate. As he smiled and mumbled his thanks, the pair missed the meaningful looks from the older couple at the table.

"So Morgan, do you have any siblings?" Darian asked.

"I have two younger step brothers who – when I was a teenager – I got to see on weekends with they stayed with my stepfather Jerry, my Mum and I. I haven't seen them since the time before the last time I went to LA for a holiday."

Ilse smiled. "That must be nice, having siblings. Greggy is our only child. We wanted a big family but were never given that gift. It would have been wonderful to have more noise and energy in the house."

"From what I hear, Greg went through enough fads to keep you on your toes, though."

Ilse gasped, dramatically clutching at her heart. "Oh, the goth phase was the worst. The eyeliner was terrible. It looks lovely on you Morgan, dear, but Greggy laid it on so thick."

Simultaneously, Greg threw his hands back on his face and Morgan threw her head back and laughed. Once her laughing fit subsided, she reached across and ruffled his hair. Greg tried to pretend he didn't welcome the gesture, but he tingled with the electricity of her touch.

"Well, he has a very nice look now," Morgan said, trying to soothe his feelings.

Soothe him it did and he sat up straight again, returning to his meal. "Okay, let's get off the topic of embarrassing me. How long are you guys in town? Is there anything in particular you want to see?"

* * *

Walking through one of the many bright, noisy casino floors in Las Vegas, the Sanders family and Morgan bustled their way through. "I can't believe one of the things you wanted to do was see a two-bit performer in a casino," Greg said, unconsciously and with practised ease skirting through the large crowds.

"It was so laughably awful, it's a story to tell. Greggy, why is the casino so busy in the morning?" Ilse asked.

"Las Vegas never sleeps, Ilse. The air-conditioning and the artificial lighting create a controlled, sustained climate that makes people lose track of time. Plus the constant supply of alcohol, sounds and pageantry keep people alert. So that means there's a constant stream of people throughout the day, no matter the time," Morgan explained, walking close and directly behind Greg so she didn't have to fight the flow of people.

The older woman went to reply but was jostled by a passer-by and she stumbled. Even before her husband could come to her aide, Greg was by her side and helping her – not only up – but through the crowd. Ilse smiled at her son, weaving her arm through his.

From her spot behind them, Morgan smiled fondly at Greg and his mother, finding his love for his mother incredibly endearing. He would probably sheepishly – yet proudly – admit to being a Mumma's Boy if she brought it up with him. Morgan found she appreciated and felt more for Greg, knowing this about him.

"Excuse me Morgan, would you mind?" Morgan looked up as Darian offered her his arm. "You are much more adept at getting through these crowds."

During their journey through the casino floor, Greg looked over his shoulder to see his father and Morgan conversing so easily. Ilse caught her son's expression and smiled.

"Greggy, how much longer can you stay out? Are you feeling tired?"

Greg smiled. "No Mum, I'm good. How about you, Morgan?"

The young woman smiled up at Greg. "I'm fine, Greg. I think if I'm home by 1pm, that'll give me enough sleep for our 8pm start."

"Oh, that's wonderful, we get to keep you for another several hours," Ilse said. "What should we do next, what's something you like to do in Las Vegas, Morgan?"

"Well, a new Cirque du Soleil is showing at the Bellagio, I've been wanting to see it."

"That's a wonderful idea, we've never seen a Cirque du Soleil show," Ilse smiled.

Greg checked show times and seeing there was a showing at 10am, he purchased four tickets. Morgan protested but he refused to take money from her and insisted on buying her ticket. Seeing as there was less than half hour before the show, the four of them high-tailed it to the Bellagio.

Half hour later when the group was seated in the theatre, Morgan found herself seated with Greg on her right and his parents to his right. As the lights dimmed and the music swelled, she leaned over and whispered her thanks in his ear, her hand resting atop his.

With a small smile, he subtly entwined their fingers and only when he saw a smile on her face did he turn towards the elaborate stage, where the performance was starting.

* * *

"It was really nice to meet you Ilse, Darian. Thank you so much for including me in your family plans, considering you're not in town for very long –"

Before Morgan could say another word, Ilse pulled her into a hug. This time Morgan was slightly more prepared for it and returned the hug warmly.

"All right Mum, you have to let Morgan go, she has to go home for some sleep. So do I," Greg said from nearby the hugging pair.

"Okay, I'm sure we'll be seeing you very soon, anyway," the older woman said, smiling at Morgan.

"Of course, I look forward to seeing you next time you stop by the lab."

Ilse's smile made Morgan think the older woman had meant something else by her statement but said nothing. She said goodbye to Darian and then quietly accepted the gentle hand on her lower back as Greg guided her to her car.

When she was seated in the driver's seat of her car, she leaned out of the window towards Greg. "I really enjoyed your parents, Greg. I like how you are around them, you're clearly a Mumma's Boy."

Just as she'd predicted, he all but blushed at the statement and nodded with a sheepish smile. She reached out and curled her hand into his sleeve as she pulled him towards her. With a shy smile that all but matched his, she pressed her lips to his.

The kiss was unhurried and tender on behalf of both parties, who felt on a deep level that this had been the only, inevitable step following the events that had unfolded. When their lips parted and the kiss deepened, Greg pulled back with a half-groan.

"Anymore and I'll be abandoning my parents to the streets of Las Vegas. We'll continue this soon."

She bit her lip to keep from laughing. "When?" she asked, wiping at the lipstick smear on his lips.

"As soon as I say goodbye to my parents?"

Morgan nodded, pressing a quick peck to the corner of his mouth. "I'll be waiting at my place. Don't be too long."

With another kiss, Greg assured her he would not take long and watched as she reversed her car out and headed home. He quickly made his way back to where his parents were waiting, unable to wipe the smile off his face.

"I hope Morgan didn't mind spending her off-hours with us," Darian said.

"No, she said she had a great time," Greg assured them.

"We like Morgan very much, Greggy. I hope we get to see her again," Ilse said, noting her son's smile.

"You will Mum, I promise."

* * *

**I actually meant to have this done on August 20 - which was my Birthday - but I didn't get a chance to finish it off and upload it. And I was so busy throughout the whole weekend, I didn't have any time to finish it. But, here it is, I hope you enjoyed it. Expect a case-driven story next.**

**\- Wandering Wonderer**


	9. What Could Have Been

**Hi guys. Quick show of hands, who was unhappy with how the show ended?**

**Regardless of the lack (or closure) of Morganders, the plot itself wasn't finale-ish. Plus, I've watched many series finales in my day and there was very little in saying goodbye to anyone (except GSR). No montage, no panning over other characters, nothing.**

**I would have loved to have seen the whole gang together doing the patented CSI walk up to a crime scene together (similar to the one when they arrived at the casino after the first blast, just...with everyone!).**

**This is my attempt to fill in the blanks.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own CSI but you can bet your button I will keep writing fanfictions for it. The open-ending of Morganders makes it less restrictive for fanfic premises.**

**What Could Have Been**

**Premise: **Three options of what could have happened in CSI: Immortality, Option 1 follows on from the end of the episode and options 2 and 3 show what could have happened to give Morganders a clear resolution.

**Posted: September 30, 2015**

* * *

_**Option 1:**_

The parking garage was buzzing with activity as law enforcement personnel swept the area for anymore explosives. The cacophony of footsteps, radio calls and shouted instructions fell on deaf ears for Morgan Brody, who sat – shoulders slumped – on a staircase separating the parking structure levels.

She could hear the blood rushing in her ears and no matter how much she wrung her hands, they would not stop shaking. One quaking finger reached out to brush over the shiny engagement ring on her left hand and she gasped as her hands were suddenly seized by larger ones.

Looking up, Morgan's eyes glistened as she looked at the sweet, concerned smile of her fiancée, Greg Sanders. "I almost killed us. I dropped my cutters and I could have killed us."

"But you didn't, we're all alive. Morgan, how you reacted was completely justified, no one can ever fault you on that. Besides," he smiled. "We now have irrefutable proof of how in-sync we are."

Morgan couldn't help a snort of laughter and her heart lightened as Greg moved her hands to his lips to place gentle kisses on her fingers, taking special care to brush over her ring. She pulled her hands free gently, cupped his face and leaned in to press an ardent kiss on his lips.

He could feel her still trembling against him so he sat next to her and put and arm around her shoulders. "Come on, we're going home."

"Doesn't Catherine need us?"

"No, she's got it sorted. And we have an appointment with my bathtub."

"Greg, we just stared death in the face for five minutes. Can we go blow some money on an expensive hotel room or something?"

"Room service and a Jacuzzi tub? I'm all for that. All right, let's celebrate being alive."

* * *

Sweating and breathing hard, Greg rolled to his side, taking his equally sweaty and breathless fiancée with him. Escaped-death sex, he decided, was more intense than even make-up sex or haven't-seen-you-in-ages sex. Glancing down at Morgan, he committed to memory how she looked in that very moment, her hair disrupted and glowing in the low light given off by the wall lamp.

As if sensing his gaze, she looked up at him with a smile, levelling her blue-green gaze on him. "That was the best," she said.

He grinned the lop-sided grin that made her breath catch. "You read my mind. I love you, Morgan Brody."

"Hey there Sanders, don't go getting mushy on me. Just because we have mind-blowing sex, don't go confusing it with love. Next thing you'd know, you'll be asking me to marry you."

Greg chuckled and lifted Morgan's left hand to kiss it. "Hey, that's not a bad idea."

Morgan pressed her face into his neck and giggled, causing him to squirm at the ticklish feeling. As her lips fluttered up and down his neck, she felt the beginning of his unshaven stubble scratch her. Moving away and leaning up, Morgan softly brushed her fingers through Greg's hair.

"I love you, Greg Sanders," she answered to his earlier comment.

He gifted her with that smile again and she leaned in to kiss him. He responded enthusiastically and shifted her until he was leaning over her. Eyes darkening in arousal, Greg gently ran his hand down Morgan's side, hooking a hand under her knee and lifting it up over his hip.

"Prove it," he teased.

Sometime later, Morgan was tracing designs on Greg's back as he lay on his stomach. Intermittently, she would lean down and press feather-light kisses on his back, paying special attention to the scars he received from an explosion so many years ago.

"Greg?" He hummed in response, letting her know he was still awake. "I know how to prove it to you."

"Prove what, Morgan?" he asked, still enjoying her ministrations.

"Prove that I love you."

He chuckled. "You did already, very thoroughly. But what did you have in mind?"

"Let's get married. Now. Tonight."

Greg froze momentarily under her touch before he turned over, looking at her with a surprised, inquisitive expression. "What?"

"I can't stand not being married to you, I don't want to wait another eight months until the wedding. We could have died today and I couldn't bear not being married if something like it happened again. Please?"

Greg sat up and brushed a flyaway hair from Morgan's face. "Are you sure? Absolutely sure?"

She nodded. "Please Greg, I don't want to not be married to you anymore."

"Right," he said, throwing off the covers. "I'm going to shave and go buy a suit. I want to look good for you at the end of the altar, don't want to give you any reason to change your mind."

Morgan laughed, hugging a pillow to herself. "Good idea," she teased. "I guess I better go buy a dress. And cover your eyes, the groom isn't supposed to see the bride before the wedding."

They both laughed as Greg threw a hand over his eyes as he moved to the enormous, luxurious bathroom. "Where should we get married?"

Morgan didn't even pause as she shimmied into her pants. "I'll ask downstairs and text you. See you soon Mr Sanders."

"See you soon, soon-to-be Mrs Sanders."

* * *

"All right Sanders, I'm here. You had me come straight from work during the fallout of a series of bomb blasts. What's the big emergency?"

Conrad Ecklie's question trailed off as he took in the sight of Greg Sanders in a smart, black three-piece suit and suddenly realised he was standing in a chapel. The younger man had a small white flower pinned to his lapel and was handing one to him.

"Greg," Ecklie warned.

"Staring at a bomb that was counting down made us realise we didn't want to wait eight months. Each day is precious. I thought you'd want to be here to fulfil your dream of walking Morgan down the aisle. She's only going to be doing it once in her life, after all."

Ecklie stared at the white flower in his hand, his mind processing the information. Finally, he pinned the flower to his jacket and nodded. He was about to speak when Greg's phone rung and the young man smiled.

"You're here?" he asked into the phone. "Okay, I'll get the celebrant and be waiting at the altar. I love you too."

With a quick, meaningful hug to Ecklie, Greg ducked into the chapel. The older man barely had a moment to register the life-altering change about to happen when he heard a voice behind him.

"Dad?"

He turned and inhaled a breath at the sight of his daughter in a beautiful white gown with a silver collar. "M…"

Morgan smiled. "Greg called you? I'm so happy you're here."

Ecklie wrapped his daughter up in a hug. "You look so beautiful, M."

"Thanks Dad. All right, let's head in before I start crying and ruin my makeup."

Morgan slipped her arm through her father's and turned towards the chapel doors. Morgan was surprised to hear the Wedding march playing as she ended and smiled as she saw Greg waiting at the end of the aisle.

Greg turned to watch Morgan walk down the aisle and his breath caught of the vision before him. She looked absolutely beautiful, he thought, but her bright smile was stunning. Morgan would tease him about it later, but he felt tears of joy collect in the corner of his eyes.

At the altar, Ecklie placed a gentle kiss on Morgan's forehead, released her arm and pressed her hand gently into Greg's. He quietly stood nearby his daughter as the celebrant began the wedding.

* * *

Something was different in the office the next night. There was something – questioning – hanging in the air and as much as the newlyweds wished it was because of their wedding, they had yet to tell anyone.

Standing in the office they had until the day before shared with Sara, they conversed quietly about the best way to tell their friends about their nuptials.

"Maybe we should," Morgan said, standing before her husband and picking her nails. "Maybe we should just take them out to breakfast after shift and tell them?"

"That sounds like a plan. It could be a belated reception of sorts," Greg said, unable to keep the happy grin off his face.

"You guys talking about wedding plans?"

The couple looked up as Henry and Hodges walked into the office and made themselves at home in the CSIs space. The newlyweds shared a quick glance.

"We're talking about the reception," Greg said.

"Have you decided on a menu yet, because I really like –" Henry started.

"Don't worry, there'll be plenty of variety," Morgan cut in.

"Oh good, guys, you're all here, great," Sara said, walking into the office.

"Hey boss," Hodges said. "Congratulations on the promotion, I spoke to Conrad about half hour ago and he told me all about it."

"Did he say anything else," Morgan asked.

Hodges looked at his best friend. "No, should he have?"

Morgan shook her head. "No," she emphasised, looking at Greg.

"Well, the promotion is actually what I want to talk to you about. I've decided to turn it down," Sara began, before being cut off by a round of gasps and exclamations of surprise and shock. "Because I'm – well, I'm leaving. Now, actually."

Greg's eyes widened. "Grissom?"

Sara nodded, gripping at the bag they only just now realised she was holding. "He's leaving very soon and I have to catch him. It has been an honour working with you over the years. Greg," she enveloped him in a hug. "Thank you for all the smiles you've given me over the years. Hodges, Henry, thank you for always making the office entertaining. And Morgan, thank you for being the little sister I never had. I'm counting on you to keep these boys in line."

Morgan's eyes watered. "Count on it."

"Is this a private party or can anyone join?"

Catherine and Lindsay stood in the doorway and Sara explained what was happening. The brunette slipped her arm through Catherine's.

"I'm leaving you in good hands though," Sara said.

Everyone in the office gasped. "You're coming back?" Greg asked.

Catherine nodded. "Las Vegas is my home and you guys are my family."

Sara said her farewells one last time before she was away through the door. There was stunned silence in the office as everyone took in what had just occurred.

"Greg," Catherine said, drawing the second most senior CSI's attention. "How would you feel about being assistant supervisor on nights?"

Greg's mouth dropped open. "What, really? Absolutely! Thanks Catherine."

"But isn't that going to create issues for the two of you?" Hodges said, pointing between Greg and Morgan. "The rules about co-workers dating have changed, but the rules about superiors and subordinates didn't."

"Unless," Morgan said, moving over to Greg and entwining the fingers on her right hand with his. "They are already married when they become superior and subordinate."

At that, she lifted her left hand and showed the wedding ring – that they'd picked out when they first got engaged – glistening on her ring finger. Lindsay's squeal of happiness was the first to cut into the momentary silence and she launched herself towards the couple. Catherine was not far behind and Hodges and Henry waited patiently to engulf each of them in congratulatory hugs.

"But when did you –" Hodges started asking.

"Last night," Morgan said. "After everything that happened we decided we didn't want to waste any more time not being married. My Dad walked me down the aisle and we," she indicated to herself and Greg. "Upgraded our room at a hotel to the honeymoon suite."

"You guys," Catherine said, tears glistening in her eyes. "Mr and Mrs Sanders. Or is it still –"

"Morgan Sanders," Morgan clarified. "I decided years and years ago that I'd only change my last name if it sounded good."

Greg kissed their entwined hands. "I think it sounds very good."

Morgan smiled up at him and squeezed her hand in his. "So after shift, are you guys all available to go out to breakfast? We haven't decided where yet but –"

"Leave that to me," Catherine said. "Just make sure that everyone you want to come is ready to go at the end of shift."

The Sanders couple nodded and accepted another round of congratulations before the office was emptied of all except them. "There goes Plan A to tell them at breakfast," Greg said.

Morgan shrugged. "We still got the reaction we wanted. Come, let's go tell Doc and Dave and see if Brass is well enough to leave hospital yet. Then we'll come back here for you to start cleaning out your desk, seeing as you're getting a new office."

After sharing a deep, content kiss, the pair moved out of the office, eager for the rest of the day and looking forward to the changes the future would bring.

* * *

**_Option 2:_**

"We can't walk away from this, this is all or nuthin', now. Do or die. You with me?"

Both the younger CSIs nodded and Morgan handed her spare pair of cutters to Catherine. She watched the older woman turn and move away to another car when she felt a none-to-gentle squeeze on her shoulder.

"Morgan?"

She barely had time to turn and look up at Greg before he leaned in and pressed a hard, desperate kiss on her lips. As quickly as it started, it was over and she only had enough time to refocus her gaze on him before he stepped back.

"I love you," he said and he turned and jogged over to the last remaining car.

* * *

_**Option 3:**_

"I love you guys!" came Catherine's voice over the noise of the car alarms.

"Morgan, I love you," Greg's surprisingly calm voice called out to the younger, hyperventilating CSI.

Without looking up from the mass of explosives in front of her, Morgan gave a watery smile. "I love you too, Greg."

The possibility of death before them, neither Greg nor Morgan noticed as Catherine's head came up, her eyes wide in realisation. Turning back to the very dangerous task at hand, Catherine focused on the red wire.

"Counting down from ten, nine, eight…"

* * *

**Option 1 works within the canon of the episode we saw. The last scene in the office is actually working off those promo pics of Greg, Morgan, Sara, Hodges and Henry in the office that must have been cut from the episode. I know it fits in at the end of the episode because Sara's outfit is the same as in the last scene when she rides off into the sunset.**

**And come on CSI writers, option 2 or 3 would have been so easy to do. It wouldn't have taken any extra time, no extra scenes. Just a few extra words to give shippers some closure.**

**\- Wandering Wonderer**


End file.
